Skin Deep
by HollyBush
Summary: It was always just about them. Fiyero and Elphaba. In Fiyero's mind, it couldn't be simpler. Winner of 'Best Fiyeraba' and 'Best Original Character' in the 2012 Greg Awards. Thank you so much!
1. Chapter 1

**Skin Deep. **

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. It's all Stephen Schwartz, Winnie Holzman and, of course, the wonderful Gregory Maguire.**

**A/N Last night's wonderful standby Fiyero, who I swear is a Fiyeraba shipper himself, inspired this. It was written fast and is unbeta'd but I hope someone, somewhere, will get some enjoyment out of it :)**

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><p>Her skin didn't bother him.<p>

So it was green. What of it? It was clear his fellow students had a problem with it though, and that must be part of why she had showed up for class today, clearly uncomfortable, in a Galinda-esque outfit with a pink flower, of all things, in her hair. He hadn't been at Shiz for very long but he'd heard enough about the 'green freak' to know that people here weren't much impressed with the girl's hue. He, however, failed to see the problem.

Oh, there were things about her that he didn't like, alright. There were definitely things about her that _did_ bother him. She was rude, cynical, obnoxious, and derogatory. She never smiled, always frowned. She studied too much. She never paid any respect to anyone except her sister and her room mate and she didn't seem to give a jot about him, even when he'd been nothing but charming ever since Galinda had introduced them at the Ozdust. There were many things he didn't like about her, but her skin was not one of them.

Actually, and he would never risk saying it out loud, but he thought that, once one got over the initial surprise of meeting someone with glimmering, emerald skin, it was kinda...well...pretty, in its own way. Not Galinda-pretty. Not bubbly pretty. Pretty wasn't even the right word at all, really, but..it wasn't ugly. At least it was different.

At least she was her own person.

That's why he didn't like the Galindafication. At all. Objectively speaking, yes, it might be an improvement. He liked her hair this way. It was long and shiny and he liked how the sunlight in the classroom made it sparkle and seem nearly blue. Her clothes were nicer too. Slightly more fashionable and form-fitting, which meant he could now actually see a form underneath her clothes. He liked that too. But it didn't suit her. Especially the flower. The pink, the frillyness. It wasn't her. And the fact that he knew that made him almost stop in his tracks. And the realization that he apparently had an opinion on his girlfriends roommate's outfits and the fact that he felt the need to tell her so made him think he was better off not thinking.

"You don't have to do that you know."

He wasn't sure what had made him say it. He just knew she shouldn't have to be doing this, just to try and fit in. There wasn't anything wrong with her.

He was glad for the interruption of their professor. The look on her face at his remark had been one of distrust and weariness and he wasn't in the mood to explain himself. To anyone. Least of all himself. He plopped down in the empty seat next to her and ignored the puzzled look in her eyes.

Instead, he tried to focus on what Professor Dillamond was saying. Something was clearly going on at Shiz these days, even someone as dead set on dancing through life as he was, had no choice but to see that. Their professor being pushed out of the classroom, to be immediately replaced by some incredibly badly dressed dudes pushing a shady-looking cart that made noises, was a wake-up call if nothing else was.

He thought it was strange, yes. He supposed it wasn't a good thing, if he was forced to think about it. But he wasn't really paying attention to any of that, because the girl next to him had gone and got herself all worked up and was now yelling at the entire class ( was she ever going to realize that was _not_ the way to get them to listen?).

Horrible Morrible got her to sit down again but he could feel her energy, her frustration rolling off of her in waves, and then the creepy dude revealed a lion cub in a cage and she was up again. Oz, did that girl never get tired of being this...this...well, like _this_?

Although...he supposed she had a point. The cub, as far as he could see, obviously wasn't happy, and it wasn't normal for a cub to be in a cage. And he wondered for a minute why he was still seated, why he wasn't with the rest of the class, gaping at that poor thing. Maybe if she'd never been there, if he had never met her, he would not be the only one still seated. Actually, he was pretty sure he wouldn't be.

But now…well...he did know her and although they weren't exactly friends, he didn't want to see that disappointed look on her face, if he could help it. She had this look of complete and utter incredulity and resentment that he had been on the receiving end of a fair share of times, and that had bothered him for some reason. He wasn't that interested in what that guy had to show them anyway. Even he could see that this guy's arrival meant bad news. He sighed. He could feel Elphaba next to him, fidgeting and he knew it was only a matter of time, minutes probably, till she'd be yelling again.

He sighed and got up to see what was going on exactly but he didn't get the chance to figure out anything because the new guy said something about Animals not learning to speak and, as expected, Elphaba was out of her seat again, ranting, and looking at him. _Him_. Like he was supposed to be doing something.

"What are we going to do?"

His head swerved in her direction.

Wait...what did she say?

"We?"

What in Oz name did she think they could possibly do?

"Well, somebody's got to do... .something!"

With the last stressed word, all sanity jumped out the window as lights flickered and all their classmates started..well...he didn't know what they were doing exactly, but he knew that they weren't supposed to be moving like that.

"What just happened?"

She looked frightened. Frustrated, angry, but frightened.

"I don't know..I...I got mad and.."

He felt his body move out of its own accord as he rushed forward.

Looking back now, a few days and many confusing thoughts later, he couldn't say for sure what possessed him to run up to grab that cage, to start running, to expect her to follow. He had just been sitting there, thinking (and yes, yes, wasn't that in itself cause for worrying) and she had gone and turned the entire class bat-shit crazy. And before he knew what he was doing, before he had time to think about what he should have really thought about, he was grabbing that damn cage and making for the door, calling for her to run with him.

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><p>And then, well…then she'd barked at him, ordered him around and offended him. And he'd stood there, marveling at this whirlwind of energy and anger, trying to get a word in edgewise, wondering whether he should just tell her she looked fine the way she'd been before his girlfriend had got to her. And whether or not she ever shut up. He only voiced the latter and it earned him a glare, followed by a slightly sheepish look. As if she hadn't considered that he might have something to say. The way she never seemed to consider <em>anyone<em> might have something to say. Then again, most people didn't have much to say to her. Still, he did. And she looked at him, embarrassed and she mumbled an apology and stared at her feet. She did that a lot. He was about to say something when she opened her mouth again. Unbelievable. He couldn't stop the smirk that touched the corners of his mouth. But then she made an attempt to analyze him and hit too close for comfort.

He walked away.

And then…then everything changed.

She'd lunged after him to grab his hand, he'd felt the static shoot up his arm and stared at her in wonder. He hadn't seen that coming. Not just the static, that electricity, _Oz what was that?_, but the act itself. It seemed so….desperate. And she'd never before come across as desperate. Aloof, distanced, lonely maybe, but not desperate. She'd shocked herself with it too, he could tell. She ran back to the cub, dropped to her knees in front of the cage and said something about not wanting to frighten it. And he finally came around to asking himself what he was even doing there in the first place. With her. And why he hadn't been affected by whatever mojo she'd pulled on the rest of the class. Again, he only voiced the latter. She looked at him. Embarrassed still but determined to look him in the eye, to _not_ hide. Her face was close to his now, closer than it had ever been. And he wasn't bothered by her skin. He was bothered by the fact that he felt himself leaning forward, eyes trained on her face, darting to her parted lips. So the moment she touched him, he jumped up. He said something incoherent, grabbed the cage and ran. But he didn't run from the green. He ran from the girl.

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><p>It took him hours to shake that feeling, and he knew that he shouldn't have run, that he should have stayed. She'd deserved that at least. She'd never done anything to him. She'd never asked him for anything and he was pretty sure that it was only her desperation and frustration that had made her look to him, in the first place. He was the only one in that room that treated her as a person. She simply didn't have anyone else to turn to and he'd been right there.<p>

But then and there, surrounded by poppies and sunshine filtering through trees and her fingertips on his face, it'd been a bit too much. He had a girlfriend, he didn't know her, he wasn't sure what he wanted, what it meant, what he felt. They weren't even friends. They weren't anything. They weren't...he didn't know _what_ they were and they weren't anymore. He wasn't sure he'd ever known at all.

But when he'd calmed down, when he'd had the time to assert the situation, he'd determined that it had simply been the thrill of it all. The excitement of what had happened in class, the adrenaline of what they'd done, the pleasure of …well…of being with her. Because he did enjoy being around her. There was no way around it, and he didn't see any reason not to admit that. She was his girlfriend's best friend, after all. Why shouldn't he enjoy her company? He hadn't seen her all that often, true, but the few times he had actually spent more than a few minutes in her company, she'd turned out to be by far the most interesting person in the room. She was still prickly and rude, and it still bothered him, but she was also…well…interesting. Definitely unlike anyone else. And that had nothing to do with her skin. Although not many seemed to share that opinion.

He hadn't really seen before what her life was like. He hadn't really paid much attention to it. So it wasn't until now that he started to see her skin. And that he started to see what it meant to have green skin in a world of creamy complexions. It meant she always sat alone in class, unless Galinda, or himself, sat next to her. It meant that nobody called her by her name. Artichoke, green bean, string bean, frog. They called her by her color but never by her name. It also meant that no one talked to her. _About_ her, yes. _At_ her, definitely. In the corridors, on the school grounds, in the dorm common rooms, he could see and hear now, the names they called her and the things they said about her as she passed. But _to_ her? No.

They didn't do it with Galinda there, no one willing to risk pissing off the popular blonde, but their opinions hadn't changed. She was still a freak. She was still ugly. No one sat with her at lunch-time when Galinda wasn't there. And when Galinda was there, and people were forced to put up with the presence of the campus freak, then still no one would sit in the spot next to her. The spot he occupied at the moment, as he looked around and observed more than they would think to give him credit for, as she sat stiff in her seat, with her shoulders tense and a frown on her face. Nobody talked to her, nobody looked at her, nobody invited her to the outing they were planning right then. And that bothered him.

So he looked even closer. As they all made their way to the next class, found their seats, snoozed through the lecture on whatever-it-was-that-mattered, he tried to see what it was that all his fellow students saw. He tried to see the abomination, the ugly. But he couldn't find it. He simply didn't see it. The girl was green, yes. Her skin was strange, yes, because it shimmered in the sun and it shone like silver in the right light, but she was a girl. A smart, obnoxious, defensive, but also, as he now knew, a vulnerable and kind girl. With big brown eyes and the shiniest hair he'd ever seen (and he could only hope Galinda would never hear about that). And he quite liked her.

And there was nothing wrong with that, he decided. He was allowed to like her, wasn't he? He was allowed to spend time with her, even, if that was what he wanted. And it was what he wanted. They could just forget about that whole awkward Lion cub thing and be friends. Because he figured she could use a friend. And, if he was being honest; so could he.

So, he decided, they'd be friends.

Whether she liked it or not.

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><p><strong>Originally, this was supposed to be a one-shot, but I have so much more written for this, that I am very carefully considering turning this into more...would anyone be interested at all? <strong>

**Either way, I hope you'll review :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thank you so much to those that reviewed! You have no idea ( actually, you probably do..) how much it means. I am very grateful that you took the time to let me know what you thought and I hope you'll do it again :)**

**I have most of this story written now and I should be updating regularly. It will go AU at some point..just to warn ya :)**

**Chapter 2**

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><p>It wasn't easy. But then, he hadn't thought it would be.<p>

He knew she was defensive, and he supposed that being the way she was, she'd had to be, so he tried not to be hurt by her brush offs.

He started by sitting next to her in most classes. He did better that way, anyway. Sitting next to Galinda was all fine and dandy, and he did have a good time with his lovely blonde girlfriend, but she and her posse of girls talked entirely too much about shoes and nail polish and they kept getting told off by all the professors. Now, he was never one to be scared of being told off, but if he was going to get in trouble, he'd prefer it to be over something else than his girlfriend's shoes.

Galinda sat next to Elphaba sometimes, but Elphaba didn't like being distracted and had told her bubbly room mate to not feel obliged to sit next to her in every class, because what would all her friends think? Galinda had protested of course, but after being told plainly by her green room mate that she wanted to listen and not talk, _and could Galinda really do that?,_ she'd pouted and moved back to where Phannee and Shenshen were gushing over magazines. She had clearly not expected anyone else to take Galinda's place and the look she'd given him when he'd sat down had almost made him reconsider his resolution to befriend her. Almost.

When he sat next to her, he kept silent, took notes every now and then, and marveled at how she knew all the answers to every question. He got points for that at least, he told himself. She hadn't told _him_ to sit somewhere else. But then, she hadn't told him much of anything. In fact, she barely spoke to him at all. She answered questions he directed at her and she was never really impolite, but she never initiated conversations, she never tried to engage him in anything, she not once tried to linger after class and she didn't accept any of his invitations to come and hang out with his and Galinda's friends.

He understood the latter. In fact, he wasn't even always all that happy to being hanging out with that crowd. He found that the definite downside of using his brain; he had a much clearer insight into how trivial their conversations were. The upside of using said brain was that he was starting to do a bit better in his courses. He even knew the answer to some of the questions his professors asked him. The first time that had happened, he'd been trying to get Elphaba to talk to him and the professor had asked him a question. Without thinking and without looking up, he'd given the right answer. The professor had been surprised, Galinda stumped and Elphaba had looked at him with her eyebrows raised and a hint of a smile tickling the corners of her mouth. It had been worth it.

Galinda made continuous efforts to socialize her new best friend. He was glad, she truly was a nice person and she didn't care what others thought of her friendship with the school outcast. She was determined to change the way people felt about green skin and sarcasm and though she wasn't having much luck so far, she kept it up and she had at least achieved that no one picked on her when Galinda was around. Or when he was near, for that matter, because being the other half of the IT-couple, meant he would surely tell Galinda if he ever were to see. Since he was so clearly trying to befriend the girl, most people figured he was just doing it because he was Galinda's boyfriend, and she was Galinda's room mate. As a result of some strange and innate female logic he couldn't understand, the fact that he was "willing to be seen" with Elphaba made him even more popular with Galinda's friends. How on earth they could honestly believe he would go through all this trouble only for Galinda's sake, was a mystery to him.

He really wasn't.

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><p>He honestly wasn't sure why he wanted to be friends so desperately. He did have friends, however shallow they may be, and it wasn't like she was tripping over herself to welcome him into her life. It was just...he was fascinated by her. <em>Because<em> she wasn't tripping over herself to accommodate him. And because no one else wanted to be her friend. It wasn't pity that motivated him, though. It was simply that he wanted to know why no one else bothered. And why _she _never bothered. And why Galinda did bother. And why she did bother with Galinda. The girl was an enigma.

And Fiyero Tiggular was never one to walk away from what sparked his interest. He was spoiled. He always got what he wanted. She was the very first that simply, blatantly, flat out refused to be impressed by him. He loved it as much as it frustrated him.

So being nice to her simply because she was Galinda's room mate might have been how it all started, back at the Ozdust, but these days, he honestly liked the girl. She was sharp and funny. And the rare times she let her guard down, if only just a little, he got to see a side of her that he was sure very few people had seen and he was proud that he got to see it. Proud that she was starting to trust him enough to smile sometimes, to not reply sarcastically to everything, to just tell him, without being cynical or defensive and without questioning him, what her favorite season, her favorite song, her favorite ice-cream was. Of course, then he'd gone and bought them both some ice-cream and she was uncomfortable again. But she didn't stomp off and she didn't throw it away. She'd sat there and read her book while eating her ice-dream, so he'd done the same and as they'd walked back, she'd said thank you for the ice-cream, see you tomorrow, so he figured he'd won.

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><p>He took her out to dinner. He'd tried to pry her out of the library for lunch. She'd refused, as she always did, but when he'd shown up at her and Galinda's dorm that evening, looking for her for a reason he'd forgotten already, and Galinda had told him her room mate was hiding somewhere because she was having a sleep over with the girls, <em>and isn't that just so much fun, Fiyero! I invited Elphie, of course but she gave me the funniest look!<em>, and he'd known without a doubt she'd spend the evening in the library. He'd told her he would not, under any circumstance and for any reason, take no for an answer and she needed to eat anyway. She'd frowned, mumbled, muttered under her breath and packed her stuff. But she'd gone with him.

She'd let him order her food, which he did just to annoy her, (and it did, of course) and she let him order wine, which he did because he was pretty sure she'd never had any (if Nessa was anything to go by) and at which she hadn't even blinked. He marveled at how this girl could get angry so easily over things that no other girl would ever get angry about. He'd never met a girl who would yell at a man because he tried to carry her bag. He was sure he'd never meet one that would huff and glare because he said she looked nice. He'd meant it, too. She'd taken to wearing her hair down sometimes and lately he found himself wanting to run his fingers through it just to see if felt the way it looked. He didn't though. He wasn't ready to think about the consequences, for either of them, if he did that.

He caught himself often doing things simply because he wanted to see her reaction. Like ordering wine without asking her what she wanted, if she'd ever even had any. It turned out, as she told him, in the soft light of the restaurant, as the night grew darker and the wine loosened her up the tiniest bit, that she'd stolen some from a bottle her dad kept in the basement. She'd gotten sick but she hadn't told anyone and her father never found out. (And the way she'd said that last part, made him think her father was not a man he'd get along with.)

He also caught himself _not_ telling her things because he already knew what her reaction would be. Like telling her he liked, adored, the way she stuck a pencil in her hair to keep it out of her face as she studied. Because telling her that would only result in her never doing that again.

All in all, the road ahead was long still, but he was gaining mileage.

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><p>School, in the meantime, was much less of a success. The main problem was that Fiyero wasn't actually brainless, but he was lazy. And laziness resulted in disappointing grades for most of his classes. He wasn't stupid enough for his grades to be abysmal, but just lazy enough for them to be bad. That had never been an issue, really. Plenty of schools to go around and with his status as royalty, he was sure to be accepted in every single one of them. However, he didn't want to leave Shiz. He'd gotten his first notice off Morrible yesterday. If he wanted to stay, and she'd looked at him pointedly then, as if she knew...something, he was going to have to pass his classes. And if he was going to pass, he would have to work harder. He hadn't said anything when he'd gotten his essay back, but he had looked at his grade, flinched and resolved to maybe do a bit more next time. Morrible had mentioned the possibility of a tutor and although Elphaba was the most obvious choice, but, it was the strangest thing, he didn't want to ask Elphaba for help for some reason. He could probably get Galinda to help him or something. Maybe they could do some sort of study session in the park somewhere. He didn't notice Elphaba sliding her notes in his direction until the edges of the paper pressed against his fingertips. He looked up, eyebrows raised.<p>

"You can do better, Master Tiggular. Don't waste my time."

And with that she walked away, leaving him to stare after her in silence. She never gave up her notes, though Boq and Nessa had asked for them before. She was always willing to help, would spend hours with Galinda, mostly with much protest from the blonde, working on whatever class Elphaba insisted she needed better grades in. She would revise endlessly with Boq when he was nervous about a particular exam (and Boq being Boq, he was nervous about every upcoming exam) and she would proofread all of their essays, but she never simply handed over her notes for them to copy, insisting that if she were to allow that, then they could simply skip all the lectures from now on and just copy her notes (nobody wanted to tell her, that is exactly what they'd had in mind) and arguing that they would learn the most if they did the work themselves. Now, however, she had handed over her notes. All of them.

A smile made its way to his lips. Yup, he was making progress.

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><p>Elphaba fumed all the way back to the dorm. She had no clue what possessed her to hand over her notes to Fiyero Tiggular, of all people. What was she thinking?<p>

She never just gave up her notes, not even to Galinda! He had just looked so...forlorn..and..well...puzzled, when he'd gotten his essay back. She had never read one of his essays because he never bothered with properly writing one until the very last minute, but she was sure he could do better than the D's and F's he was currently getting. He wasn't an idiot. At first, she'd thought he was, and then she'd desperately hoped he was, but he wasn't. He definitely had a brain. He just wasn't using it. And so far, he hadn't even glanced at his grades whenever they'd received their exams or essays back.

Today had been different. She knew that he'd had a talking to from Madame Morrible, because Galinda had been complaining about the unfairness of it all, but she'd thought he'd shrug it off, the way he must have in the previous schools. But then in class, just now, he'd looked ...almost determined. As if he knew he could indeed do better and maybe he was about to try. And she didn't want him to loose that. She wanted him to work harder, to do better. Because he was smart and he could do so well, if only he tried. And he could achieve something. And he should stay at Shiz, because he obviously liked it here, and he had friends here, and he had Galinda.

And, well...she supposed...she didn't really want him to leave. He wasn't really all that annoying. And he made Galinda happy, which made her happy. And he was...nice. To her. He would probably insist they were friends, even. And she didn't have that many, had never had any, and she liked not being alone.

And since he the deadline for his essay was in only a few days, she feared he'd give up before he even started and she wanted to help him. She always did the same for her sister, for Galinda and even for Boq. Why shouldn't she do the same for Fiyero, if they were indeed something resembling friends now? She'd considered for a split second to offer to help him write it but she was rather afraid he'd say yes. Because that would mean spending even more time with him and her stomach did a somersault at the mere thought. The way it often did when she saw him enter the classroom, when he'd sit next to her, threw one of those infamous grins her way or whenever she thought about him for too long. She didn't like the direction her thoughts were heading these days. She'd go to bed and stare at the ceiling and she couldn't stop the images that she kept so far in the back of her mind during the day, from hurling forwards.

She had to hold her ground and, with that, her distance. She knew exactly what was happening. She wasn't ready to admit it, though. Not even to herself. She'd never felt any of the things she was feeling before. She'd never really felt anything about anyone, because there'd been nobody around to feel them for. But she knew now what friendship was, she knew the twirling in her stomach as Galinda smiled at her and ordered two caramel latte's, _because they're just so feminine, Elphie. That black bitter coffee is not doing you any favours_, and she drank the sweeter than sweet concoction purely because she loved Galinda ordering _two_ of them, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to have friends and buy them coffee. She also knew that what she felt when Fiyero was near her, was not the same.

She enjoyed walking to class with a twittering Galinda, but she liked even more, more than she cared to admit, walking and sitting next to Fiyero. She didn't fully grasp why exactly, but it made her uncomfortably warm inside when he would dump his bag on the desk, plop down in the seat next to her, casually leaning back and grinning one of those insufferable happy-go-lucky, self satisfied grins at her. He'd tell her good morning, and he'd poke her in the side with his elbow whenever she rolled her eyes at his ridiculous attempts at flattery. She just couldn't offend him, it seemed! Whenever she tried, he just grinned and winked at her. Stupid fool.

And she couldn't think of a reason for him to want to sit next to her all the time. At first, she'd thought it must have been a bet or something, so she'd huffed and said nothing and ignored the notes he was trying to pass her. But he kept doing it, kept showing up, kept balancing his chair on the back legs, while one arm draped over the back of _her_ chair, which made her uncomfortable and distracted her, and tapped his pencil until she told him to knock it off. She'd rolled her eyes, huffed and snorted. She'd been cynical, sarcastic and plain rude. And he still hadn't gone away. He was still sitting next to her in nearly every class they had together. In fact, he was only trying harder. He invited her to everything and was disappointed, but never pressed the issue, when she declined. He invited her for coffee, which she never accepted, offered to take her out to lunch, at which she only rolled her eyes, and he walked her back to her dorm after class, even when she ignored him completely for the duration of the walk.

It was taking a lot out of her, to not accept his friendship when he seemed so clearly to be offering it. The thing was, she didn't understand it. And what she didn't understand, she couldn't rationalize. And that meant she'd have to take the chance, and that, in turn, meant she'd be setting herself up for disappointment.

But it was getting to be too hard. He tried too hard. And she liked him too much. And it didn't seem like he was getting any closer to giving up.

Like last week, when she had let him accompany her to the local bookstore, because he'd just fallen in step beside her and refused to go away. It had been a nice day and she just hadn't been in the mood for any fighting. He'd needled her favorite ice-cream flavor out of her (she should have known, really, knowing him, but he was so different when it was just them, that she forgot sometimes, that it was Fiyero Tiggular, Prince of the Vinkus, ladies man extraordinaire, she was talking to), he'd shown up outside the bookstore, holding two enormous ice-creams and he'd told her to please not say anything and just eat it, and she'd almost stopped to ask him _why_.

Why he was doing this. Why he was hanging out with her, steering her towards the park, buying her ice-cream, when he could be with Galinda, or his friends, doing whatever it was they did. But she'd stopped herself and forced herself to forget it. Why would she question him? Why would she ruin this, when she was having a good time? Because she was having a good time. With her room mate's boyfriend. Somewhere, deep down, she knew she should have issues with this but...if he didn't think it was too weird...then...she could simply enjoy the day, right? Because the sun was shining and there were no exams looming and she'd gotten her books and she did like ice-cream.

And she'd noticed that people stared less, even as she'd made her way through the town center. People always stared at her, of course, but it seemed that Fiyero's presence convinced people that she must have some degree of humanity or normalcy that made the famous Prince walk next to her, touching her arm and laughing with her. Not once had people in stores ever been more than polite to her, but when Fiyero was right next to her, everything changed. She was still being stared at, she was still a novelty. But no one dared to insult her, because Fiyero Tiggular was her friend.

She'd guess that he wasn't unaware of it completely but she also knew that he could never guess the depth of what his friendship meant to her. He was the first one who not only truly accepted her for who she was, but who liked what he saw. He was the first to take her to lunch, to treat her to dinner, to give her a present. To smile at her when she walked in without any trace of anything else hidden behind it. He was the first, aside from Galinda, to actively seek out her company because he enjoyed it, to look for her when she wasn't there, to always invite her, never forget her. He was the first man in her life who showed her kindness.

And Oz, she wouldn't, couldn't, shouldn't admit it, ever, to anyone. But she loved that he was her friend.

And she hated that she loved it so much.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading!<strong>

**If I were to give out chocolate covered Fiyero's...would that make you review? **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3.**

**A/N I went on an on-the-run road trip through the USA (fun!) so I'm posting this from a roadside establishment in Missouri :) **

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><p>So they're friends now. She considers him a friend and he knows it. He can tell from the way she accepts his constant presence, smiles when he enters the room and looks up from her work to talk to him. And he likes being her friend a lot more than he'd have thought he would.<p>

And he likes her being his friend even more.

She's a perfect friend because she doesn't try to impress him in any way, and his status as Prince doesn't hold much meaning to her. His status as playboy doesn't either. He can't charm her into doing anything, she won't fall for any of his pretty lines and flashing his pearly white teeth only earns him a smack over the head. And he loves it. He loves spending time with her. And he does it so often that even Galinda raises her eyebrows now and then, when he comes to their dorm to pick up his girlfriend for a date, but then spends an hour talking to Elphaba, not once urging Galinda to hurry up and finish her beautification routine. They studied together, they walked to class together, they sat together at lunch, where she still sat uncomfortably, but less stiffly these days, with his bag next to hers and his arm slung around the back of her seat, his long legs touching hers. He'd taken to bringing her coffee in the morning, because it made her less grouchy whenever he talked through a lecture and he bought her a meal sometimes, after a particularly long day of studying. He was even seen in the library every now and then, if only to stay on her good side. And it worked.

And as he filled his days like this, seeing less of Galinda and more and more of her roommate, he figured it out: It wasn't that he couldn't see what the others saw. It was that they couldn't see what he saw. And he admits to himself that he likes that. Because she is starting to trust him a little. Only a little, only a step at a time, but it was there all the same. Because he doesn't treat her like those idiots do. He doesn't treat her the same as he does everyone else either though. Because she's not like everybody else. He teases her more than he does anyone else but he flirts with her less blatantly, because it makes her uncomfortable and he doesn't want her to be uncomfortable around him. He wants her to have some place, someone, that she doesn't have to feel uncomfortable with. So he tries to be nice but not too nice. He teases her and he aggravates her and he lets her make snide comments about his intelligence. And he smiles. Because he knows something no one else knows. He knows_ her_.

* * *

><p>Galinda Upland, of the Upper Uplands, isn't stupid. Bubbly, ditzy, superficial and vain maybe, but not stupid. She knew exactly which shoes to match with which dress, she made sure that those that mattered knew her name and she always kept her grades, due to minimal effort and maximum charm, slightly above average, because it just wouldn't do for an Upland of the Upper Uplands to be average at anything but it wouldn't do to be known mostly for brains, either. Galinda was the perfect combination of beauty and brains. Her mother had taught her well.<p>

Lately, however, Galinda had used her brain a lot more than she'd have preferred. A lot more than she'd used her beauty. And it was all because her best friend was the smartest girl in the school and her boyfriend was..._thinking_.

And he was doing it _with_ aforementioned best friend. They were always together these days. Everyone saw it. Galinda saw it. And she hadn't care'd, at first. But now...well. She still didn't_ care._ But she did mind.

She'd surprised herself with the revelation. She'd been out shopping, because nothing clears a girls head the way shopping for the perfect shoes can, and she'd been fingering fabric and matching the tones of lilac and baby blue and pink to her mental Rolodex of strappy shoes. It had come to her out of nowhere, as she decided on a shade of soft shimmering pink. She didn't _care_, because she wasn't in love with him. She loved him, yes. She loved how they looked together. She adored the adoring looks people would throw them and the jealousy in the girls' eyes as she spun around in the dance floor in the best dress and with the most handsome boy in school. She loved what he represented but she didn't actually love him. The realization made her sad, made her forget about dresses and shoes and straps for a minute, made her leave the store and make her way to the sun lit piazzo and find the emptiest terrace at the back of it, where the shade enveloped most of the tables and chairs and sit down. She did all this without being too aware of what it meant but as she spotted the waiter approaching her, she squared her shoulders. This needed to be dealt with and Galinda was nothing if not good in crisis situations. She ordered a strong, black coffee because she needed it and then asked for vanilla syrup, because she deserved it and forced herself to think. Clearly and honestly, think about her relationship with Fiyero and what she wanted from it, gained from it, felt about it and wished for. And she did. She didn't want to. She wanted to run back to the shops filled with glitter and shiny pretty things.

But she didn't.

She ordered another coffee instead.

She distanced herself from the situation and observed. Fiyero was the perfect boyfriend. He did everything right. He bought her chocolate and flowers, jewelry for Lurlinemass, he dressed incredibly well, had nice manners and the most charming smile she'd ever seen on a boy. He was took her to the right restaurants and was always on time, but never complained about having to wait for her. But then, she knew that the reason he did everything right was because he'd done it before. Many times. She wasn't any different to him. It hurt a little to acknowledge that but she felt the better for it. After all, he was only different from all the other boys that had wooed her or tried to, because he was prince, wasn't he? She didn't know him. At all. He never shared who he was with her. They didn't bother with conversation or emotions. And she wouldn't have minded, would have preferred it that way, wouldn't have wanted him to bother with either, if it hadn't been for...for Elphaba.

Because she was forced to admit that Fiyero did do all those things, just not with her. He shared who he was with Elphaba. He was different with Elphaba. Happier. It was more painful than Galinda would ever have guessed to acknowledge these things but they were true and they could no longer be denied. If she denied them. She'd be stupid. And Galinda wasn't stupid.

Fiyero was happy around Elphaba. Fiyero was always happy, of course. It was his slogan, his answer to everything. Dance, smile, be happy. And she didn't think he was unhappy when he was with her. He smiled, laughed, danced. He enjoyed himself, she was sure. But it wasn't the same. When he was with Elphie...he was...calmer. More relaxed. He smiled, genuinely, he teased her and let her insult him. He kept his attention focused on the green girl and never strayed from her side. Galinda doubted if he even knew it himself, but he was always touching her, looking at her when she was in the room, looking _for_ her when she wasn't. He dragged her out of libraries and demanded she'd join their group for lunch and dinner dates. Galinda never minded. She'd thought it was sweet. She loved her roommate and Elphie didn't have many people that accepted her for who she was, who cared about her and Fiyero obviously did. He was trying so hard to be her friend. Now, however, Galinda wasn't so sure that was all there was to it.

And it wasn't just that Fiyero was Elphaba's friend. It was that Elphaba was Fiyero's friend as well. That was part of why he was so different around her. Why they were so different around each other. They were true friends. Fiyero was, dare she think it, himself around Elphie. None of his flattery or tricks would ever work on her roommate, Galinda knew, so the only way to get through to Elphaba was by being who he was, without all the prince-type charms. By letting go of that, by simply being who he was, he'd won her over. That much was clear. They were friends. True friends. Galinda saw no way around that anymore and not even the pang of jealousy she felt at that, of anger even, could change that.

At that precise moment, as if Fate had looked down and taken pity on her, she saw Fiyero walk by, holding two huge ice-creams and, a minute later, saw Elphaba exit the bookstore. Galinda watched as her boyfriend stepped towards her with a grin and handed her roommate one of the ice-cream cones. She saw Elphaba grimace and roll her eyes but concede and the pair made their way towards a deserted table. They could see her, if they'd look up, yet Galinda stayed where she was, sure beyond a doubt that they wouldn't. She watched as they sat down in chairs opposite each other. Elphaba dropped her bag on the table and grabbed a book, while Fiyero put his feet on the edge of Elhaba's seat, at which she smacked him, but softly and with an indulgent smile. They talked a little and she watched in astonishment as her roommate closed her eyes and lifted her face towards the sun, and Fiyero watched her with a look on his face that, if Galinda had been ready for that, she could have described as love. And then Fiyero grabbed a book. And they sat there and ate their ice-cream and read. And it looked just like it did in school, but it wasn't. Because the prince kept glancing over the rim of the book, to the girl opposite him and said girl took much longer to finish a page than she normally needed.

Galinda sat there and watched. And she let the pain and the anger and the bitterness fight their battle inside of her until regret won out and was followed by acceptance.

Resignation.

It was the way it was.

She took a minute to reflect on her own maturity and was proud of herself for not breaking down in tears or working up to an angry frenzy. It was what it was. She wasn't in love with her boyfriend, so she simply could not get angry because he was not in love with her either. And she could not be angry at Elphie for falling for the charms of such a lovely boy, who accepted her for who she was and bought her ice-creams and who abandoned his popular friends and antics for dusty books in shadowy corners. She wanted Elphie to have all that. She deserved all the kindness she could get.

What she was angry about, was that Fiyero was still dating _her._ For now, she was willing to believe that the boy had no clue as to his true feelings yet. Boys were not perceptive and Galinda was nothing if not perceptive. She was ready to let go of her dreams of marrying him, but she wasn't ready to play matchmaker. She wasn't ready to be Galinda Upland, single. No longer half of the perfect IT couple. She wasn't fully ready to not be Gliyero. She wasn't ready for Fiyeraba.

So she'd give it time. Time to deal, to accept, to put it fully behind her. And she'd give _him_ some time. Time to come to his own, but the same, conclusions. Time to man up and break it off with her.

Time.

But not too much of it.

She'd never liked wasting time. Her popsy had taught her well.

So she sat and watched her boyfriend be in love with her roommate and she tried to determine whether or not her roommate returned the feelings. It was difficult to tell, with a person so closed off as Elphaba. She was comfortable around him, or at least as comfortable as she'd ever been around any one. Who else would she have ever been out in the sun with, instead of in the library or the seclusion of her dorm, eating ice-cream and smiling?

Galinda got up and made her way out on to the street again. She made sure not to pass Elphaba and Fiyero. She didn't want to deal with them right then. She skipped past the shops, she wasn't in the mood anymore. She went back to her dorm, pulled the curtains, removed her make-up, took a shower and went to bed. Tomorrow, she knew, she'd be back. She'd be Galinda Upland of the Upper Uplands again. Tomorrow, she would shine and sparkle and shop. Tomorrow.

* * *

><p><strong>I'd love a review :)<strong>

**But I can see that quite a number of people are (or were) reading this, so that's good enough to keep me posting. The next chapter is three times as long, at least so should I cut that in half? **

**Next Stop: Tulsa, Oklahoma!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4.**

**A/N Another state, another chapter? From Tucumcari New Mexico :) (the Blue Swallows Motel ! Awesome :)))**

* * *

><p>He was really making headway. He grinned at the realization as he waited for her at the door to the cafeteria and watched as she, without knowing it he was sure, smiled as she made her way towards him. She did that these days.<p>

Smile when she saw him.

He was pretty sure she wasn't fully aware of how much she'd changed around him. She was still uncomfortable and edgy around everyone else but she visibly relaxed when he entered the room. Because he'd smile at her, wink (at which she would roll her eyes, but with a grin) and then sit down next to her. Always. He always sat next to her. Galinda would be in his lap, or on his other side or on Elphaba's other side and didn't seem to mind her boyfriend's attentions to her best friend. His relationship with Galinda was easy and comfortable.

His relationship with Elphaba however, was much less so. It _was_ a relationship, though. Not a romantic one, but not just a friendship either. He felt...protective of her. That's why he sat next to her and why he was so happy that she was letting him. Not that she'd been able to stop him before, but these days, she relaxed when he plopped down beside her. He wasn't sure why exactly and what had evoked the change but he liked to think it was because she knew he was there to be her friend, to save her from Avaric's idiotic remarks, her sister's disapproving remarks and Galinda's make overs. To like and appreciate her for who she was.

She let him touch her, even. Not often and not for long, but she let him take her hands to lead her through busy streets and restaurants and he was allowed to, as he did often, place a hand between her shoulder blades whenever he wanted her attention, when he nudged her forward in the line for the cafeteria or when she'd been working for too long, hunched over her books and notebooks, and her muscles were all cramped up. She'd flinched the first time he'd done that and he'd been sure she'd glare at him and stalk off.

She hadn't.

She'd shrugged it off and walked towards their table and spent the entirety of the meal avoiding his eyes but she hadn't walked away and she hadn't gotten mad. He'd wondered if anyone had ever touched her in her life, had ever wanted to, and concluded that probably not. Galinda did and Nessa must but he knew from Galinda that Elphaba didn't have a great relationship with her father and from casual comments and conversations between Nessa and Elphaba, he'd gathered that Elphaba definitely was not her father's favorite. It annoyed the hell out of him but didn't seem to bother her much.

When Nessa had received a parcel for Lurlinemass and Elphaba hadn't, he didn't detect any surprise on either of their faces and he figured this was how it always had been. He tried to ignore the way his stomach felt when he lingered on how different they were treated by their father, by everyone, but his mood was spoiled for the rest of the day and he'd snapped at Galinda when she'd excitedly opened her many presents from her parents. He'd gotten Galinda some jewelry, as the perfect boyfriend is supposed to do, but he'd gone into town the next day and bought Elphaba many stupid things that she didn't need and wouldn't want, disregarded them all and wrapped them for his sisters.

Like she accepted her status as the school outcast and the many insults from her students, she accepted that her sister was their father's favorite. He didn't understand how someone who was so...fierce and passionate and intense about injustice in any place in the world, would so easily brush aside the unfair hate and disgust people felt towards her, even her own family.

However, even he never fully realized it until Tibbet said it. He was at the Ozdust with the guys, sharing drinks and laughs, after his friends had pointed out, not unkindly, that he didn't spend enough time having fun, and even less having fun with _them. _He knew they were right and just because he'd come to realize they weren't his best or truest friends, they'd also never done him any harm and he did enjoy a drink and a dance. He was changing, but he was still Fiyero Tiggular.

He was having a pretty good time, too. He wasn't overdoing it, just enjoying himself. He was only on his second beer. He had an exam tomorrow and Elphaba would kill him if she showed up hungover and failed after she'd given him her notes. Again. And, if he were honest, he wanted to do well on that exam after spending all that time studying. Good grades made his teachers happy, his parents even happier and, as a result, his life much easier. Who would have thought?

That's why he'd hesitated when the guys had invited him along but as much as he had changed and as much as he somehow preferred to spend his time with Elphaba these days, he had to admit that spending some time around men sounded fun. And it had been.

Until now.

Avaric was drunk. Which meant he was an ass. He really wasn't a horrible person. He had too much arrogance, too much swagger and way too much money, but he wasn't, by nature, a terrible person. Except when he was drunk. Like now.

And the problem was, Avaric hated Elphaba. Nobody knew why exactly. Sure, nobody really liked her. Nobody really knew her. She wasn't particularly nice either. Plus, she was green. Enough reason for most of Shiz' population to dislike, ignore and make fun of her. But that's where it ended.

Not for Avaric.

Fiyero had the sneaking suspicion that the self titled golden boy had a bit of an unwanted thing for her. He'd never say so out loud. Avaric wouldn't take to it well. He was more than content despising her. And mocking her every chance he got. Even when she wasn't in the room. Like now.

"Thing with the Bean is, she doesn't know her place."

Fiyero put his glass down with a thud. Enough was enough.

"She has a name."

Nobody listened. They were all drunk.

"But she does, though", Tibbett argued, "doesn't she?"

Nobody knew whether he was responding to Avaric's comment or Fiyero's. Nobody cared.

He looked around the room, as if waiting for someone to support his claim. Fiyero had been about to argue with Avaric, or leave angrily, or both, but now he kept silent and looked at his classmate in surprise.

"She never really shows her face anywhere, does she?" Lack of support from his peers had turned his claims into questions. He ploughed on, though.

"I mean, she never goes anywhere. She doesn't exactly force her company on us, or anything, does she? She knows people don't want her around."

Tibbett said it without malice. He spoke the simple truth, harsh as it might have been. It hit Fiyero like a punch to the gut.

_She knows people don't want her around_.

What was her life like? It's like he was seeing it for the first time, despite having seen it so many times before. Nobody wanted her around. If not for Galinda, she would have been completely alone.

His stomach did that thing it did whenever he thought about how lonely her life must have been. Might still be.

He left without saying a word. He was going to find her and take her out. Or sit wherever she was studying and annoy her into conversation. He needed to prove, even if only to himself, that not everybody felt that way. That some people did want her around. That he wanted her. Around.

* * *

><p>He'd try the library first. He'd have to think of something to lure her out. Elphaba and libraries went together a little too well, for his liking. He'd have to insist, especially when she was on a topic that really roused her interest. He'd have to not take no for an answer.<p>

Like the time he'd told her they were going out to dinner to celebrate his grades, at which she'd kindly informed him that they were nothing to write home about yet, but he'd only winked and told her he'd done just that and that his parents had given him dinner and a show to celebrate and it was only fair he'd take the girl who had inspired it all in the first place.

She'd frowned, scoffed and snorted, but she'd come.

That's when Fiyero had discovered, rather late, that not asking was the only way to get the girl to accept anything. Asking her led to frowns, cynical remarks, questions about his mental health and rejections. Not asking did not. Not asking, meant informing her that he was buying her lunch, dinner or coffee. And informing her annoyed her to no end, but, in the end, made her give in. In any other girl, he'd have found it tiresome. In her case, he understood it was because asking her, meant her having the chance to think that you were hoping for a rejection, so he wouldn't give her that chance.

He'd tested that theory when he'd left a huge bunch of poppies on her desk, for Lurline mass. He'd attached a card that told her not to mention it, and with that he meant that she wasn't allowed to mention it.

She hadn't, but she'd quietly thanked him a week later, in between classes, avoiding his eyes.

* * *

><p>Elphaba was not in the library. She was in the common room of her dorm. It was a Friday night. Nearly everyone had gone out and the room was deserted. She was enjoying the silence and quite looking forward to a quiet night without any chattering girls around. She had coffee and was reading a book. Not for school. Just a book she enjoyed. For fun. Galinda had tried to convince her to come out with her and the girls, as she always did, but Elphaba had declined, as she always did.<p>

She sat on the worn-down sofa, sipping her coffee and reading her book. She didn't hear anyone come in until suddenly, out of nowhere, Fiyero plopped down beside her. Feet on the coffee table. Body brushing hers. His head lazily falling on her shoulder.

"Hey."

She nearly jumped at the unexpected touch and sound.

"What are you doing here?"

Fiyero frowned, but with glee.

"Ouch."

"Oh, you know what I mean. It's Friday night. Shouldn't you be at the Ozdust or something, getting inebriated?"

He grimaced at that because it stung a little.

"I don't do that nearly as much. Besides, have I not spent many an evening studying with you?"

"Yes. And that is my point. This is a free evening. There isn't anything major due next week. So why are you not out celebrating?"

She looked down as he looked up, his head shifting from her shoulder, slightly to the side. A little too close. She tried to move, awkwardly, but he moved with her.

She looked into his eyes and her breath hitched. Had anyone ever been this close to her?

He didn't seem aware of it though.

He didn't move away, he didn't say anything either. Just stared at her face until her cheeks flamed.

* * *

><p>He was aware of it. He was very, very aware of it.<p>

He knew, precisely and with no little surge of excited panic, that if she would just lower her face the tiniest fraction, and he moved up the slightest bit, their lips would meet.

He didn't though. He wanted to. He knew, very clearly and with a surprising lack of confusion, that he wanted to. He also knew it was probably too fast. And if he made a wrong move, all that had been built between them would be gone. She'd be gone.

He didn't move forward, but he didn't move away either. He was curious to see how she would handle this. What she would do. Her shoulders were tense, her breathing was shallow and she was extremely uncomfortable. He took it all in with a strong sense of sympathy and a stronger sense of satisfaction.

She made to move, sliding over to the left a little, away from him. He moved with her, sitting up, his head closer to hers now. His shoulder touching hers. She gave in and sat back again. She turned to look at him, cheeks flushed a fascinating shade of almost-purple.

Ha.

She felt something for him. She must, or she wouldn't be sitting there still. She'd have hexed him to infinity. He'd probably be balking right about now.

It took everything he had not to kiss her. Her lips were so close to his, it was almost physically painful to not lean in, but he didn't.

He took pity on her instead. She obviously had no clue what to do. She was uncomfortable and edgy and it wouldn't be long before her nerves and insecurities would make her do something rash.

It struck him how well he'd learned to deal with her. And she with him.

When he'd formed the resolution to work on his friendship with her, after that nerve wracking day with the Lion Cub and her fingertips on his cheek, he hadn't thought to consider how much he'd come to need her. How much he liked her.

And in moments like this, when someone made a nasty or simply insensitive remark, he was taken aback at the fierceness of his reaction. How angry he got. How sad. How protective. How strong the urge to find her and ask her if she'd been loved. To assure him that she had been. But he knew better.

In those moments, the protective streak in him trampled everything else and he knew that she, in his quest to be her friend, had become his best friend.

But there were other times, other moments, when she rolled her eyes, as he opened doors and pulled back chairs for her, or smiled at him when he came to their door, picking up Galinda for a date. She'd open the door, smile and then look at her feet, because the shyness around him never went away completely and returned full force whenever Galinda was around. Her hair would swing forward, her shoulders set as if preparing herself before she'd look back up. He felt a tingling in his spine every time she did that.

Or when she raised her eyebrow whenever a waitress flirted with him inappropriately.

Or when she dropped the cynical act and the sarcasm and she spoke to him about her childhood, Nessa, her mother. Softly and slightly hesitant because sharing her stories was unfamiliar to her. She never told him anything _too_ personal, never anything that she thought could make him pity her, but he knew better than she did what passed for normal and he could read between the lines. He could read between _her_ lines and he knew that she had suffered, much more than she let on. Much more than he wanted to know about.

Moments like this, when he sat next to her, completely at ease and found himself content.

And as he sat there, his arm touching hers, his hand lingering in the small space between his leg and hers, he realized that not ever before would he have been able to just sit here like this, with a girl he wanted, or befriend someone who was so much trouble ( and oh, was she trouble, but he had to fight a smirk at the thought). It was ridiculous how much he loved the way she spoke to him. As if he was her equal. As if his opinion was one that mattered.

She knew he had a brain and she would not let him get away with not using it.

The way children loved it when they were treated as adults, with a strange satisfaction and a sense of awe, was how Fiyero felt when she talked to him about the things that were important to her.

He loved how he became a part of her mission. How her passionate nature stirred something in his languid and passive one and fueled his lust for life. She was the cynical one, without a doubt, but he was the bitter one, really. He just knew how to hide it better.

* * *

><p>He got up suddenly, and she fell to the side a little, which made her realize how much she'd been leaning on him in the first place.<p>

He stood before her and held out his hand to pull her up.

"Come on. Up. We're going out."

She looked up at him, ignoring his hand.

"Out?"

"Yes. Out. You'd think that after all this time with me, you'd be more familiar with the concept."

She made a funny little face and rolled her eyes.

"Shut up. I'm not going out. Fiyero. It's...late."

It wasn't and she knew it.

He gave her a look that said as much.

He pulled her up and began dragging her up the stairs, back to her room.

"We're going for drinks. It's Friday. We're young and pretty. That, if anything, is cause for celebration."

A snort at that.

"I'm sure it is in your case. Go ahead."

He gave a sigh of frustration and fought not to lose his patience.

"This is not up for negotiation, Thropp. I'm merely giving you an opportunity to get your coat. It's a little chilly."

"Fiyero." she started to argue and turned around mid stairs, to face him. Ready for a discussion and ready to win.

He just stared at her. Stared her down.

"Coat."

And there was something in his eyes that made her halt her comments. Something that he wouldn't let her see but that told her that he needed this.

He needed this from her.

She gave in.

* * *

><p>She let him. Because she didn't want to fight him. Because he'd been so happy. Because she wanted to.<p>

She enjoyed quiet evenings in, with no one that bothered her, made her feel unwelcome. But she enjoyed his company even more. And for some reason, he seemed to want hers. Often.

He dragged her off into a taxi, that he paid for without paying heed to her objections, and into a cafe. Many of their classmates were at the bar, Galinda, surrounded by her devout followers, was at one of the big tables in the back but seemingly too busy being adored and having a good time to notice them come in.

He asked for a table for two.

She marveled sometimes at the effect he had on people. When the waitress stared at her just a bit too long, he had only to clear his throat and raise his brow to have her scurrying of in a hurry, only to return with their drinks and a thousand watt smile, within minutes. She'd have liked to get angry at the waitress for being such a fake, and at Fiyero for being so...ugh...so...well...nice, really. He meant well, and just because she wasn't used to that, did not mean she had to be mean about it. Still.

"You don't need to do that. I'm quite used to it."

She spoke with a hint of a smile in her voice, because she didn't want him to think she was angry with him, and because she truly was used to it and a funny look from one haughty girl didn't do much anymore.

Fiyero only frowned at that.

"Well, you shouldn't be, should you?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but he was faster.

"Don't answer that."

The kindness in his eyes made her insides squirm but she ignored it.

She wasn't sure when, where or how it had happened but somewhere along the line, she'd gone from tolerating his presence to craving it. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

* * *

><p>The waitress flirted with him. A lot.<p>

Elphaba did not seem to care much. She raised her eyebrow the way she always did, but ignored it otherwise, a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth.

All of a sudden, he found himself annoyed. How did this girl just assume that they were not together? He and Elphaba could be a couple. He was willing to bet that the girl wouldn't have behaved like this if he had been here with Galinda. He could have been Elphaba's boyfriend just as easily. But he knew, as well as she did, that nobody would hurry to think them a couple, because nobody would expect, or believe, Prince Fiyero Tiggular to be the green girl's anything.

It pissed him off.

"Excuse me, miss?" his smile was charming, even as his words were laced with steel. The waitress didn't seem to notice but Elphaba did.

"Could we have a bottle of your best wine, please? We're celebrating our anniversary, you see."

Elphaba's head snapped up but she didn't say anything, just watched as the waitress stammered a confirmation and walked away, confused and not altogether happy.

Then she turned back at him. Her eyes asking for an explanation.

"I didn't like her attitude. And I don't understand why you put up with it. You're all about fighting injustice but you just let people put you down."

He was angry and he took it out on her. He was annoyed with _her_ too.

She wanted to walk away, would have in any other case, with any one else. But they were too close for that now. He deserved more than that now.

"Fiyero."

"No. I'm serious. You never accept injustice. You would be on the rooftops if they let you. So why won't you do the same for yourself?"

He really wanted to know. He'd been to afraid to ask the question but now that he had asked, he wanted an answer.

She set her shoulders, took a breath. Her mouth grim and tense.

"What's the point?"

That wasn't good enough.

"You could say that about the Animal bans too."

She shook her head, tired and weary.

"That's not the same." he wanted to argue again but she silenced him.

"No. Fiyero. Let me finish. It's not the same. Animals have always had the same rights. They're being stripped away only now. There is something going on there. Something strange. Something bad. It is not the same. I am_ green_."

She looked him in the eye. Imploring him to listen, almost daring him to disagree. She wouldn't discuss this again.

"_I_ am green. No one else is. At least as far as we know, and for argument's sake it doesn't matter if there is anyone else on the other side of the world that is green or blue or purple. I am a freak. Okay? People don't know what to do with me and people, as a rule, are, unfortunately, not tolerant and not kind to what they classify as wrong or strange or ugly. It's the way it is. My own parents couldn't deal with it. I don't expect others to."

Her breath ran out. Her cheeks flamed. She looked down at the table top and then slowly back at him.

He didn't say anything, just looked back at her.

"It..." She faltered. Wanted to run, but forced herself to get it out, over and done with.

"I wish, of course, sometimes that people wouldn't respond the way they do. But there is no point in wishing. And a waitress that sees you and me together will sooner assume that I forced you here at gunpoint, than believe that you are here with me out of your own free will. I don't much care about that because she isn't doing anything wrong. She is simply like everyone else. _No one_ understands why you are here with me. She is not the exception, Fiyero. _You_ are the exception."

Her tone was matter of fact. No traces of bitterness of self pity.

His throat hurt and he didn't know why.

"Do _you_ understand why I am here with you?"

She looked puzzled and unwilling to answer.

"We're friends."

He shook his head. This just wouldn't do.

"Do. you. Understand. Why I am here with you?"

"I..."

Oz, what did he want from her?

"I don't...I don't know."

He shook his head, sadly and with a touch of disappointment and resignation. He wanted to leave. He wanted to shake her. He wanted to yell. At her. At everyone in the room. He wanted to drag her over the table and kiss her.

* * *

><p>"Fiyero?"<p>

Her voice was smaller than he'd ever heard it. He looked up into her questioning eyes, where insecurities and fear were not quite held back.

He raised his eyebrows, a sign that he was listening.

"We _are_ friends, right?"

He didn't know why it had waited until now, but at that question, he was sure he felt his heart break.

_Oz..._

"Always, Elphaba Thropp."

He picked up his menu again and forced a smile.

"Always."

She smiled again, wistfully this time. This girl had too many smiles to keep track off, and so many of them that only he got to see.

And something changed right then and there. A current of electricity between them, that reached out both ways and sparked off what was already there, slowly simmering.

Fiyero could feel it happen, though he couldn't, didn't dare, name it yet.

And wondered if she had felt it too.

* * *

><p><strong>I know this chapter is pretty long. I tend to do that. Would it be better if I made them shorter?<strong>

**Tell me what you think, if you could :)**

**Next up: Winslow, Arizona. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5. **

**A/N This chapter comes to you from Las Vegas (My, oh My... I did go to see Phantom, which was amazing!) and I am heading for LA next...I've never ****been so I am excited :) Tips or tricks, anyone?**

**To the lovely, lovely, wonderful people that took a moment to review: THANK YOU! I will respond to your reviews individually, I promise. Once my feet get back on European soil, it should be easier, as my internet connection now depends on visits to roadside diners that offer Wifi...**

**Lastly, I have noticed mistakes in previous chapters when I was re-reading for this one. This is all unbeta'd and I somehow stop seeing my own mistakes...**

**I hope it doesn't bother too much and I promise to go back and fix them, at some point!**

* * *

><p>All of a sudden, it was clear as glass: he was in love with her.<p>

Clear as day.

How had he not seen it?

_How?_

"You okay?"

Her question shook him out of his reverie. Carefully arranging his face not to show any of the raging emotions he was feeling, he focused his attention back on her. He needed to get them back to where they had been, if only for tonight, before it was all shot to hell.

He needed time. A bit of space. He needed to work through this.

He tensed his shoulders, took a deep breath and looked back up at her with what was, hopefully, a convincing careless smile. But she sat there, her eyes full of concern, without so much as a clue as to his feelings, and he wondered all of a sudden if she was aware that in any book but hers, this would constitute a date.

He was very aware of it now and though he hadn't planned it as a date, the realization that it could be classified as such, made him wonder if that had, subconsciously, been what he was after when he'd gone to drag her off that sofa.

He asked her about a school assignment then, to distract her, to distract _him_, and tried not to see how ridiculously beautiful she was tonight, and they managed, somehow, to relax and be _fine_, when the waitress approached the table and asked casually whether or not they would like to share the lover's special, and as he looked up at her he realized it was nearly Valentine's Day and that he was having a late dinner in a nice place with his girlfriend's roommate.

He looked at her, then at himself. Her hair was down and she'd smiled a lot that evening. He looked nice, he always did, no point being coy about it, and they were leaning over the table, towards one another. He looked at them and at the room and knew that, had he been with anyone else, had she not been green, everyone here would assume them to be on a date. The waitress cleared her throat and Elphaba told her quietly that they wouldn't be taking the desert. That woke him up and he glanced at her. She was uncomfortable again. Dammit.

He tried to smile, to clear the air. To cut the tension away with a knife.

"I'm sorry. I forgot that Valentine's Day was coming up."

"It's okay." She smiled back at him, but it was a bit stretched and didn't reach up to her eyes.

She reached for her bag, dumped unceremoniously on the floor.

"We should probably go though. Galinda will be wondering where you are. And you probably shouldn't take her here for Valentine's Day. Just in case."

He couldn't help the grimace that appeared on his face.

"Elphaba..."

But she was gone, had retreated into her shell, where no one could reach her till she let them.

"Shall we? It's getting late, anyway and I have studying to do."

He wasn't ready to give up. He wanted to get her back. He was enamored with who she was when her defenses were down. So much so that it hurt, almost physically hurt, when that Elphaba was replaced with the one who disguised and protected herself from the world so fiercely that there was not getting through, no matter how close they had become.

"Elphaba..."

It was no use. He knew it was too late. She needed time now.

"Fiyero! It's fine. I'm fine. I just ….forgot." About Galinda. About Valentine's Day. About the fact that they were...friends. They were friends.

He looked at her, his face impossible to read.

"Me too."

* * *

><p>They were just friends.<p>

She needed to get away from him.

Far away.

He was getting too close. He saw too much.

He'd see, soon. He'd_ see _and he'd know and then it would all be over.

If he knew how she felt...How she truly felt...

If he knew, he'd leave.

And she honestly wasn't sure if she'd survive that.

She would have. She could have. If she hadn't let him get this far. If she hadn't let him in this far.

But she had. She'd forgotten herself. Forgotten who she was and now...

Now she wasn't sure how she'd cope without him as her friend.

She needed time. And space.

She needed some air to breathe and time to distance herself a little bit.

She'd been used to being alone. She needed to get used to it again, She needed to get used to being without him.

She had to get away.

* * *

><p>He needed time.<p>

He needed...

_Shit. _

_Oz-dammit. _

He didn't need time.

He knew exactly what was going on.

He sighed and shook his head angrily.

The problem wasn't that he didn't know how he felt.

The problem wasn't that he'd forgotten about Valentine's Day.

The problem wasn't that he was out having dinner with his girlfriend's roommate.

The problem was that he was in love with his girlfriend's roommate.

The problem was that he was in love with the most unattainable girl in Oz.

_Shit._

* * *

><p>Galinda was getting tired. And angry. And sad. But mostly angry.<p>

He'd gone from being the perfect boyfriend to being a terrible one. The worst one.

She'd seen them at the bar. She'd been in the bathroom and when she'd come out, they'd just stepped inside, being led to a table for two, too busy having hushed conversations to notice her. Her boyfriend, because he was still her boyfriend, was having intimate conversations, in a very public place, with her best friend.

She was angry. At Fiyero.

Not at Elphie, though.

She didn't blame Elphie. Not really.

It wasn't Elphie's fault. She probably didn't even know what she was doing.

What it looked like.

Galinda had to assume that. Because if she didn't, if Elpie did know, then that would make her a terrible friend. And Galinda didn't want to think that about her best friend.

* * *

><p>A letter from the wizard.<p>

_A letter._

From _the wizard._

Elphaba had stared at Madame Morrible in wonder. She couldn't remember ever being ecstatic but this...

This was _a letter. _

From _the wizard himself. _

Asking to meet with her.

He wanted to meet with her!

She had to go tell Galinda.

She had to go show Fiyero!

She'd tried to keep her distance in the past week, but it had proved much more difficult than it had seemed.

They'd grown into such a routine, such a friendship, and she hadn't realized it until she tried to avoid him. Until she tried to do without.

Every morning, he'd get her a coffee and walk her to class.

They'd meet for lunch, for dinner, for homework. He plucked her out of her dorm, the library, the bookstore. She dragged him out of the sun, out of his bed and_ to _the library. They were always together and in the moments they weren't, he always seemed to know where she was. He could tell how her mood was with just one look, he knew when to leave her alone, to give her some space and when to persist. He knew what to say and when to say it.

He'd become the most important person in her life, more so even than Galinda, and she didn't want that to change. She didn't want _them_ to change.

She didn't want to lose him, especially not over some silly fantasy.

Something that would never happen. _Never. _

He was never going to love her.

So she simply had to make sure he never found out that she loved him.

_How much_ she loved him.

All she had to do was ignore it, hide it, until it went away.

It would go away, in time. She was sure of it.

In time.

Yes.

She was sure of it.

In time.

And till then, she'd try her hardest. It would work. She'd learned early on to hide emotions. No one wanted to know about them, anyway. It had always worked best for her to keep quiet. So that's what she'd do.

She'd be fine.

But first, she'd go to the Emerald City.

First, she'd go see the Wizard.

* * *

><p>Fiyero felt guilty. Quite the sensation.<p>

Elphaba was going to the Emerald city.

Off to meet the Wizard.

Of course, he, of all people, knew exactly how brilliant she was. So he wasn't surprised. Not in the slightest.

He was just...

It was just that...

She was leaving.

And he knew that she was coming back, of course.

Of course, she was coming back.

She'd be gone no more than a few days.

But...

He was going to miss her, that was all.

He was just really going to miss her.

He'd spent all week trying to figure out what to do.

Now that he knew how he felt, how he really felt.

He'd tried to figure out what to do with all these not-so-new but still unfamiliar feelings.

But all that had led to was guilt towards Galinda and fear of what Elphaba would do if he told her.

What would happen if she didn't feel the same.

What would happen if she did.

He honestly wasn't sure which of the two terrified him more.

Either way, everything would change.

And even if she did feel the same. Even she was feeling everything he was feeling...

Even if she was...well...as inexplicably and absolutely in love with him as he was with her, her loyalty to Galinda would never allow her to act on it.

He wondered what it said about him that he was willing to risk it all, to try.

What kind of person that made him.

He needed to talk to his girlfriend. Because she _was_ still his girlfriend.

And he loved her. He adored her. He was so much more fond of her than he'd ever thought he would be. She was bright, she was beautiful, she was cute and a joy to be around.

It was simply that he was, against all odds, in love with her best friend. In love with his best friend.

He supposed he should have seen it coming, a hell of a lot sooner than he had. But he'd let it get this far and there was nothing he could do about it anymore.

Now that he knew, now that he could feel it in every pore, in every fiber of his being, he couldn't ignore it.

He couldn't _not_ act on it.

But he couldn't figure out a way to do it without hurting anyone.

Without scaring off Elphaba, who scared so easily.

Without hurting Galinda, who deserved so much better.

A fresh wave of guilt washed over him at the thought.

He really needed to talk to her.

But first, he'd say goodbye to Elphaba.

He'd get her poppies, their very own recurrent theme, and wish her luck.

And then he'd talk to Galinda.

And then...then he'd figure out a way to tell Elphaba...everything.

* * *

><p>They were at the trainstation.<p>

Nessa, Boq and Galinda.

All three of them, some in better moods than others, to say goodbye to Elphie.

Galinda was sad to see her friend leave. The dorm would be so quiet without her, which Galinda knew was ironic because for all her opinions, Elphie never did say much when it was the two of them, together, in their room. Galinda would chatter and flutter about and Elphie would sit in the windowsill, and make sarcastic remarks.

Galinda had never thought she'd grow so fond of sarcasm.

Oh, she was going to miss her so!

But, stronger, much stronger, than the sadness, was the happiness she felt at her best friend's good fortune.

Galinda couldn't think of anyone who was more entitled to a a stroke of good luck and success than her wonderfully strange roommate.

But...

Where was Fiyero?

He'd told her he'd be there, when she'd swallowed her pride last night and gone off to find him. She'd wanted to ask him to meet her somewhere, in the time Elphie was gone, to confront him, but she'd chickened out at his warm smile and had only asked him if he was going to be at the train

station.

As if she'd thought for a second that he wouldn't be.

He'd been so nice. And so charming. So absolutely the Fiyero she adored.

But she was able to see past the facade know. She'd seen it was a show he put on for her.

Which she supposed was the bitter truth of it all.

But he'd kissed her cheek and told her that he'd meet her there and then asked her if maybe they could go for lunch after.

And in spite of it all, in spite of herself, a small part of her hoped, prayed, wished, that he'd be able to explain it all away.

That they'd still get their happy-ever-after.

And now...he wasn't here.

What did that mean?

Galinda wasn't sure whether to be angry at him for not keeping his word, for not even saying goodbye to their friend.

Or relieved, the tiniest bit relieved, that he wasn't.

That maybe, just maybe, she'd read too much into it.

That maybe he did still belong to her.

But then he came running, nearly tripping over himself to get there faster, to be on time, and he ran right past her. And although he turned back to grab her hand, take her with him, his heart wasn't in it and his eyes were trained on Elphaba the entire time.

She watched as the two of them shared a moment, a_ something_ she wasn't part of and never would be, something quiet and deep and meaningful, and she knew that he had never been hers to begin with.

He took off without so much as another glance at her and because she wasn't ready, still wasn't ready, for what was coming, what that lunch would bring, she said yes when Elphaba suggested she come with her.

She jumped at the chance.

She'd deal with everything else later.

For now, she'd go to the Emerald city.

* * *

><p>Fiyero couldn't deal with it.<p>

He couldn't deal with it all.

Not with the guilt he felt every time he looked at Galinda.

Not with the way his heart nearly beat out of his chest whenever he looked at, thought of, or even heard Elphaba.

Not with the way his whole body was on edge and his mind ran in every direction.

So when he watched Galinda get on the train with her room mate, from a safe place in the crowd, he felt relief and frustration fight an equal battle inside him.

Relief that he wouldn't have to deal with the inevitable just yet.

Relief that he could put it off a little longer.

But he felt frustration and trepidation too. At not dealing with what needed to be dealt with.

At seeing Elphaba board that train without him.

He'd considered for a moment buying a ticket and going with her.

But he'd seen Galinda head for the ticket booth, watched Elphaba wait for her with a broad smile on her face and he knew it wasn't his place.

This was _their _moment. Elphaba and Galinda.

They needed to do this together. The two of them.

Two best friends.

So he stood at the sideline and watched the train pull away.

And he stayed there for a long time, staring at an empty platform, knowing that his whole life was about to change.

* * *

><p><strong>I am torn. I could end it here. We all know what happens next. <strong>

**However, I had originally planned a much longer story, which would go AU as of now...**

**I'm very unsure about it, because AU means all-new and scary territory for me. **

**So...I am asking you to make the choice :) **

**Is this the end? **

**Also: Thank you for reading :)**

**Leave me a review?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6.**

**A/N So here it is. From Europe this time, and still in doubt but also excited and scared and curious :) I've decided to continue this, simply because I love writing it and I've nearly finished it all, so it's worth a shot to see what you think. **

**Thank you so much to those who reviewed! I have many fuzzy feelings for you!**

**If you don't want to continue into AU territory then please stop reading here and pretend it's only got 5 chapters :)**

* * *

><p>A Wicked Witch.<p>

_The _Wicked Witch.

That's who she was now, in the eyes of Oz.

How had that happened?

Elphaba's mind had always been too quick for her own good. This is where she paid for that.

She simply couldn't imagine staying with the Wizard, joining him in his quest to silence every Animal in Oz, in order to keep the people appeased and him in power.

She wouldn't.

She _couldn't. _

But now here she was.

It was cold and it was dark, and she had no idea of where to go but more than that; she was alone.

She hadn't been alone in quite some time.

But then, she'd been alone her whole life before that, so she'd cope.

The question was: how?

What was he going to do exactly? Where was she going to go?

She thought for a moment, the tiniest moment, about going back to Shiz. To pick up some of her things, to say goodbye. To her sister, to Galinda.

To Fiyero.

_Fiyero. _

If she went to see him, she'd never be able to leave.

But she would not be able to be near Shiz and not go and see him.

No matter how much she already missed Galinda, and even her sister, no matter how badly she wanted to say goodbye to her room mate, to thank her and just see her one last time, it didn't compare to how much she wanted, _needed,_ to see Fiyero.

Her entire body seemed to ache for him. At the mere thought of him, her insides clenched and her heart...

She loved him.

Completely and utterly.

She pointed her broom in the opposite direction.

She needed to get as far away from Shiz as possible.

* * *

><p><em>3 years later...<em>

The green was everywhere.

And not just in the Emerald way of the Emerald City.

Posters of her, that didn't resemble her in the slightest, had been put up everywhere.

Her name had been replaced by her new title.

Elphaba Thropp existed no more.

The Wicked Witch of the West was all that remained.

Every day, he'd run for the paper, to see if she was mentioned anywhere.

Every day, he was afraid that she was.

Every few days, there'd be some story about the horrible things she'd supposedly done. The Animals she'd tortured, the buildings she blew up, the things she'd destroyed. The people she'd hurt. Killed.

They got worse with time.

She was the people's greatest fear.

The land's most powerful witch and most dangerous terrorist.

Oz' worst enemy.

He missed her.

Oh, how he missed her.

Every poster, no matter how unflattering and incorrect, reminded him of her. The real her. The shy and slightly awkward girl who had no clue as to how alluring she was.

Every shade of green made his heart constrict. Hopeful, because every time he sees green, he thinks for one second that it might be her. That maybe….

But it never is.

And after all these years, the mere sight of the color makes him bitter, because it is never the right shade. No matter how hard he looks.

He had to face facts.

She was gone and she wasn't coming back.

She'd up and vanished right out of his life.

He remembered all too well, the days he'd spent in silence, thinking, nothing but thinking, when his girls had been off to meet the Wizard. The plan he'd made to speak to Galinda, then to Elphaba, knowing what he was about to risk and but willing to do so to get a chance at what he wanted, _who_ he wanted, more than anything. So he'd gone to the station, nervous and on edge, but ready for whatever would come his way.

Ready for anything but what had come his way.

She'd gone.

Gone.

He'd tried to wrap his mind around the fact and failed miserably.

How could she be gone?

Even now, three years later, he didn't understand how he woke up every day to a life that included his hunting down the woman he loved because she was considered a dangerous terrorist.

Back then, he hadn't been able to comprehend at all, what possibly could have happened to make her disappear. Make her_ have to_ disappear.

What had happened to make her, suddenly, the greatest terror in Oz. A Wicked Witch?

Galinda wouldn't talk at first. She'd cried, sobbed against him for hours, and then she'd gotten up, sniffled a bit more, straightened her dress and her back and gone back to her dorm. From that day on, he'd seen mostly fake smiles and true determination on her face.

He'd asked her later, much later, and she'd told him.

He never told her about his feelings for Elphaba. Never told her he'd planned to break up with her.

He hadn't been able to. As much for his own sake as for hers.

It was only the two of them then.

And it was only the two of them now.

Today, three years later, the charade was still going.

Glinda was Glinda the Good and Fiyero was ….

Captain.

Fiyero Tiggular.

Captain of the Gale Force.

How bout that?

His parents were proud.

Glinda couldn't be happier.

The people of Oz adored him.

He hated himself.

He hated what he'd become. What he pretended to have become. He hated that he lied his way through life now, day after day. About who he was. About what he wanted. What he did.

And he hated that he did it all over a woman he'd never dated, hadn't slept with, hadn't even kissed, for Oz' sake! A woman he'd seen last when she'd been a girl, full of hope and plans and dreams.

Who was she now? What had _she_ become?

He knew the answer didn't matter.

* * *

><p>He also knew he couldn't take much more.<p>

He was in the pub with his men. His comrades in arms. Former fellows and current followers.

He was drinking with them, a little away from them. Part of the group, but only at the surface. He sat with them tonight and pretended to be one of them. Not because he wanted to, but because the one thing he wanted even less than to sit and drink with men whose main point of discussion and main purpose in life was the Wicked Witch of the West and her painful demise, was to go home and face Glinda.

Glinda and her smiles that rarely reached up to her eyes anymore. Glinda and her pet names and endearments and pink dresses and fluffy pillows. Glinda and her love for him that wasn't quite genuine but real all the same. Glinda and his love for her that wasn't quite real but genuine all the same.

He was drinking too much. He knew that because he was thinking too much.

He shouldn't drink. Drinking never did him any favors.

Elphaba.

Elphaba.

_Elphaba. _

Oz, where was she?

He dreamed about her every night now. Another reason not to go home.

Every night, he'd close his eyes and she'd be there. It made him never want to wake up. It made never want to go to sleep.

It made him go out and search even harder.

Without success of course. He couldn't run the risk of finding her, catching her, with his men present. As Captain of the Guard, hunter of the Wicked Witch of the West, he led his men in the wrong direction, creating more fear and awe among them for the powers and the cleverness of this woman. This _thing. _

As Fiyero Tiggular, hunter of Elphaba Thropp, he kept track of everything that could mean anything.

Also without success. So far.

It made him want to throw things. It made him want to punch people.

It made him want to actually break down and cry sometimes.

The longing for her was so intense, the pull he felt, the power she had over him so strong...

He couldn't rest. He couldn't let go. He hadn't relaxed in over three years. Every fiber of his being was on alert because what if he missed something? Anything?

So he sat at the bar, nursing his drink and he listened.

He listened to the conversations around him. The bragging of his men. The grunts of the bartender. The music from the jukebox. The cards and fiches hitting the table in a fierce but friendly poker game.

And he heard his men talking about all kinds of bullshit. Shit that had mattered to him a long time ago. Shit that still would have mattered to him if he hadn't met her.

But he had and so it didn't. Not for a long time now.

But then one of them said something that made Fiyero put his drink down and sit a little straighter. Something about a witch.

Not the Wicked one of the West. A different one. Another one.

One who was apparently doing business in the city. Something shady to do with fortune telling.

Fiyero didn't believe in fortune telling. But then he hadn't believed in fortune for a long time either. He hadn't believed in bubbles for transportation, the Wizard being the root of all evil or schoolgirls that turned into terrorist witches overnight. And he hadn't believed in girls with emerald skin that could steal his heart away.

So he paid attention.

He listened.

And he made a decision.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for reading!<strong>

**I hope you take a moment to review :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7.**

**A/N Thanks to those who reviewed, favourited and alerted :) It truly makes my day.**

* * *

><p>He knew it was crazy.<p>

A gypsy.

A fortune teller.

A charlatan.

But still...one of his men had come forward, afraid to be laughed at but determined to say his bit. His wife had been to the fortune teller, and had come back with predictions. They had come true, she swore and the woman had simply known things she couldn't have known about. The men had scoffed at it, laughed and ordered another beer, joking about what predictions they'd certainly get to hear, were they ever to go. Fiyero'd snarled at them, asking if the fortune teller had also predicted that they were about to lose their jobs. But, in the back of his head...he'd wondered.

This wasn't the first time, of course, that he'd heard about fortune tellers in the city. There were always people who claimed to have powers they didn't have. It was all show. A way to make a living. He'd never once bothered with any of them.

But lately...he was losing hope. He wouldn't give up, he would never give up. He couldn't. But he _was_ losing hope. And he needed something. He needed to try everything. Needed to, so he would never have to wonder.

So the story about this woman, this witch that could tell the future, that could look into your soul and tell the truth, was not new, was not different.

But _he_ was.

So now...here he was.

He couldn't believe it himself, but here he was.

About to pay a gypsy for his fortune. He knew he was taking a risk. If his men found out...he'd never hear the end of it. He'd definitely would never be taken seriously again. Of course, he could claim he'd do anything to find the Wicked Witch of the West, ( which was true, albeit for different reasons..)..no one would dare argue with that...

Not that it mattered. He was convinced she knew nothing, anyway. If she did, she would have come forward with the information a long time ago, to collect the reward the Wizard was giving out for The Wicked Witch, alive or dead. She hadn't. No one had. So she knew nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Still, he stepped inside.

* * *

><p>The woman was old. Creepy, yes, but maybe only because he wanted her to be. She looked at him with apprehension, but amusement as well. As if...well...as if she knew why he was there.<p>

Fiyero noticed there was nothing there to enhance the magical effects. No heavy curtains, no glowing orbs, no scarfs, trinkets or other artifacts that would help create a magical atmosphere. There was a table with two chairs, one of which she occupied. A small, very small window in the back, the rest of them boarded up from the outside. Very little light, but she'd lit a few candles, which made shadows play around her form and made him unable to properly see the rest of the room.

She smiled a crooked, but not unkind, smile and motioned to the remaining chair.

"The Captain of the Gale Force...I would not have believed it if I hadn't known already.." she sniggered, a dry , strange, rusty sound in the back of her throat.

He hesitated, not sure he wanted to sit down, make this real. As if sitting down would mean that he chose to be here, to believe her. That he was actually doing this.

"You would like me to tell you your fortune, Captain? Most would be surprised. Do you not have all the fortune there is?"

He threw a look in her direction, sharp as daggers. He hadn't come to be mocked by this woman.

"If you are who you claim to be, _what_ you claim to be...should you not know why I am here?"

He was in no mood for games. He felt ridiculous. Stupid. He hadn't felt like that in a long time. Uncomfortable, yes. But not stupid. But he couldn't walk away, because what if she did know? What if she really did know?

"I do." The grin faded from her face. "But you would be a fool to believe I would tell you what you wish to know."

He wanted scoff, to brush it aside, but he could feel the hope fluttering...rearing its head. What if...?

He forced himself to look her in the eye.

"So you do know? Where she is?"

She merely looked at him. No muscle moved, nothing in her face changed. He had his answer then.

"Where is she?" He all but growled the words, trying to stop his heart from exploding.

"Captain. I am not sure what it is you want. You are not ..what I expected you to be. There is good in you. I would advise you to stop this goose chase. Return to your betrothed."

"She's not my betrothed."

"It won't be long before she is. Stick to your safety, Captain."

"Where is she?"

"Captain."

Her demeanor was calm. Her voice steady.

His wasn't.

"If you know all you say you know. If you are...then you know I am not who _I _claim to be."

His voice strained, resembled a whisper more than anything else. He was reaching his breaking point. The mere fact that he was here, having this conversation was proof enough.

"I don't..." He spoke carefully, not wanting to leave any doubt about his intentions but not wanting to give himself away yet.

"I do not wish her harm."

She wanted to smile at that, but fought it.

"I believe that. That is why I say these things to you. You play a dangerous game, Captain. A risky one. But as long as you steer clear of her...the risks can be overlooked. Were you to find her, however.."

She didn't finish that sentence, but let the silence stretch. She'd made her point.

"I want to find her."

He was so tired. He didn't care about any risks anymore. He didn't care if his men were about to find him here and hear all this. He'd be hanged for treason, and he wouldn't care as long as he found her first.

"I _need_ to find her."

He dragged his gaze back up to hers, let her see his soul. Begged her, with his eyes, to see who he was, what he wanted. To help him. He knew he was falling apart, that he was pleading, begging, this...this maybe-witch to help him do what he shouldn't. He was too exhausted to give a damn.

"Please. If you know where she is, if you can help me find her...you know I wouldn't …...hurt her. I won't ever hurt her."

She cocked her head and stared at him in wonder. She had many questions, but she'd only need an answer to a few of them.

"I do wonder, Captain. I have for some time. I have watched as you blundered time and time again and I wondered if our Captain of the Gale Force was either incredibly stupid, or remarkably clever. I suppose I know the answer to that particular question now."

"Yeah? Which one is it?"

His voice lacked power, volume, confidence.

"Both, I fear. " There was no smile to soften her words, or the look in her eyes as she forced him to look back.

"Your coming here could be explained away. The masses will gladly believe what you tell them. If you're convincing enough. But what would you do, Captain, if you found her. Have you paused to consider this matter?"

"I..." He hadn't. He'd thought of, dreamed of, a million scenario's in which he found her and saved her and they'd ...well...

"There you have your answer, Captain. There is no way to come out of this unscathed. Not for any of you."

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, pinched the bridge of his nose, unsure of how to make himself clear.

"I don't need to make it out of this unscathed. I just need to find her. You don't understand how long, how hard, I have searched for her. What I would do..."

"What is that? What would you do?" This was mere curiosity from her side. But he didn't know that.

"Why have you searched the way you have? Do you have an honest answer to any of these questions? You are a boy, nothing more. You have not thought this through. You didn't get your way and here you are, begging for what you want. But why do you want what you want? Answer me that, and I will consider."

He was still for a moment, contemplating how honest he should be.

"I...I want to find her, because..." He was unsure how much to tell this strange woman. Unsure of how much she knew, how much he wanted her to know. But...if it was an honest chance at seeing Elphaba...if it was his only chance...

"Because I have to tell her...because I _need_ to tell her what I should have told her before she left me three years ago...only I didn't know then. I _was_ a boy back then and everything you just accused me of but I am no longer..."

He squared his shoulders and opted for the truth, plain and simple.

"I need to find her because she belongs with me. She belongs with me and I belong with her." He looked the old woman in the eye then. "I love her, and I need to tell her that."

She wanted smiled at that and allowed the corner of her mouth to rise. "A good enough reason, foolish as it may be. Love, you say...and yes, I know you mean it. I suppose that makes you no longer a boy indeed. I won't stop to question your upcoming engagement to Miss Glinda here. It is not to me you owe the answers. I can not, however, dear Captain, tell you the whereabouts of Miss Thropp."

Fiyero didn't ask her what she meant about his engagement. He wasn't planning on proposing, but he also knew that Glinda had a way of making things happen and so this woman might not be altogether wrong in her prediction. He did stop to notice that she called Elphaba 'Miss Thropp.' She was obviously on Elphaba's side.

"But..."

"I must be in touch with her first, you understand. It would not do for me to be handing out business cards."

"You.." He was nearly speechless. With anger, confusion, hope. And he didn't know at the moment which was stronger. "You know her? You talk to her?"

She cocked her head again and observed him but with pity visible in her eyes this time. She saw his desperation, not because of any powers she might have, but because he didn't hide it any longer.

"Barely, and not often. Our paths have crossed, because I made them cross. Not being able to hide from the truth has made me unable to stand by the Wizard and refuse her what she needs and gets so little off."

He felt relief, that at least she wasn't completely alone, but anger and bitterness too, at the unfairness of it all. Of everything. Of not seeing her when other people had. That she'd sought out people, kept in touch with at least one, and it wasn't _him_.

"Is she...how is she?"

"You will see for yourself, I suppose, at some point. She is alive, Captain, and too cunning for your Wizard's army, you can be sure of that."

He smiled at that. "I know."

Then frowned again, as the reality of him having to leave without getting what he wanted sank in.

"Now what? I will not walk away from here, not knowing whether or not I will see her. I have to find her and I will not stop."

"Go back to your palace, Captain. Contemplate what you are about to do. Deeply and carefully. And come back in three days, if you still wish to. I will speak to her. If she is willing to speak to you, you will in three days."

Willing to speak to him...

"But..."

"Please, Captain. I urge you to do this. If you are willing to do as you say...prepare for that then. Leave things in a proper order. Consider Miss Glinda in all this. I doubt she would take it well, were you to leave tonight and not come back."

Unfortunately, he saw the logic in that. He held up a hand to stop her, as he saw her rise from the chair. Clearly, their conversation was coming to a quick end.

"Don't...don't tell her everything I've told you...I .."

She neatly put the chair back in its place. She looked at him as she put on a shawl.

"Those things are not for me to pass on, Master Tiggular. I will tell her only what is necessary. Come back in three days. You have waited for three years, surely, you can wait for three more days?"

She'd stopped calling him Captain. It helped.

"What if..." He hesitated at that. He didn't want to think about what he was about to say. "What if she doesn't want to see me?"

The woman smiled at that and for a moment, Fiyero felt as though she knew a lot more than she let on. And, for the first time, as if she was on his side.

"You wouldn't have come here, Mr Tiggular, if you truly thought she wouldn't."

He wasn't so sure about that yet, and he opened his mouth to say so, but he wasn't fast enough. She smiled again, as if she'd heard him.

"And you would not _still _have been here, if_ I _thought she wouldn't."

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading :)<strong>

**What did ya think? **


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8. **

**A/N As people had already guessed ( that was fun :)) I decided to have the fortune teller be Yackle. I contemplated creating a new character but this is a fan fiction for Wicked, both the book and the musical and I like having some small element of the book in here, whenever I can. So she's Yackle, but not Yackle...**

**I hope that works for you too. **

**Oh, and to those who reviewed, alerted, favourited: Thank you, thank you, thank you! **

**Alright. On with it.**

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><p>"You had a visitor today."<p>

Elphaba turned away from the stove, where she was working on both dinner and a small explosive. The first she made because even _her_ body, used to suffering from cold, hunger and pain, needed food to sustain itself. The latter she made with much more satisfaction. She'd need it if she were to get into Gale Force head quarters. She needed a distraction to ensure all the little soldiers would be away from the doors inside the building. She snorted. Honestly, they were simpletons. All of them. Well...maybe not all...Yes. She shook her head and turned away from memory lane. _All_ of them.

She realized that Yackle was talking to her. Being alone nearly all the time had heightened her senses, but it had worsened her social skills. She simply forgot sometimes that some people or Animals talked to her, expecting an answer. She spent most of her time in the woods. She was safest there, but once in a while she needed things from civilization and in those moments, she would stay a few days, hiding in plain sight, in the city, with those few who were willing to give her room and board, in exchange for what she did for the animals. There weren't many who shared her view, but those that did, offered her what she needed.

"Hmm?"

She heard the old woman sigh, and couldn't help a tiny smile. Yackle had found her, only a few weeks after her escape from the palace that faithful night. She'd been cold, hungry and tied. And scared. She was determined to fight the Wizard, but she'd had no clue how or where to start. Yackle had found her, in the woods where she had taken up residence, taken one look at her and then had simply turned back around and walked away. When Elphaba hadn't followed, she'd thrown a look over her shoulder and called her a silly little girl, then asked her if she was planning on surviving on grass, water and illusions. Elphaba had been, well, she'd been angry and offended, but also too tired and too hungry to argue. She'd trusted her common sense, rather than her people radar and followed the old woman home.

It had been one of the best decisions she'd ever made. Yackle had been blunt and offensive in her manners, but she'd fed her, offered her a bed and then told her about others that defied the Wizard, or at least wished to. She'd told her about plans for a Resistance, about Animals who had fled and were preparing to fight back. Not once had she asked Elphaba what had happened that had her end up in the woods, on the run. Not once had she asked about the posters with a green face on it, that were up all over the city. It had not taken long for Elphaba to realize it wasn't because Yackle wasn't curious, but because she already knew enough. She'd pushed aside her natural paranoia then and they'd kept in touch, only in part out of necessity. Yackle's place was the first she'd try when she needed somewhere to stay in the city and she'd rarely had to look for another place.

"A visitor? That seems improbable. No one knows I am even in the city except for those who need to know and even those do not know I am in your kitchen." There was little humor in her voice. She regretted it but her life left no room for humor. Or much else besides determination and thick skin. She'd always had thick skin. Determination even more.

"A lack of a better word, little girl."

The woman looked at her guest. She was too thin. Too small. Too innocent, even as she fabricated bombs and potions in her kitchen. This was who she was forced to be, what she had become. There had to be some of the girl left in there, Yackle thought. She'd find out soon enough.

Fiyero had been wrong in his first assessment. Yackle did have powers and she used them when needed. She'd always had the gift of sight and years of study and practice had only added to what she could do, but she didn't fool around with it and she never promoted her powers. Her grandmother had taught her well. The lessons had been wasted on her mother and Yackle would not follow in her footsteps. She'd made a living off her sight, because it was the easiest thing to do, because it kept her from going hungry and because it helped people, occasionally. She never told them much. And never anything too significant. It would do more harm than good and it suited her to have people doubt her abilities. Being too good at something led to attention and too much attention led to trouble.

But then, the people didn't come to her for the truth. They came for reassurance. Tonight had been an exception to that. Captain Tiggular had been hoping for reassurance, but looking for the truth. That was the reason she had not been able to lie. He had been desperate. Desperate not to find the witch, but the woman, and not for the reasons he should be. It fascinated her. In the three years that Elphaba, who she was never allowed to call Elphaba but always did anyway, had been staying with her on and off, the Captain had never been mentioned. She and the green woman were not friends but as close to it as they needed to be and although Yackle knew little about the woman behind The Wicked Witch, she knew Miss Glinda had been a class mate. And since the Captain had been a pair with Miss Glinda for a long time now, Yackle wondered what his relationship with Elphaba was. Clearly, there was more than met the eye.

She had long ago decided bluntness was the best approach when confronting stubborn natures.

"The Captain of the Gale Force came for a reading today."

It didn't disappoint.

Elphaba didn't drop anything to the floor, but her hands stopped what they were doing and her body stilled completely. Her voice was shaky, if only slightly, when she responded, without turning around. It was the latter that gave her away. Yackle had never known Elphaba to not look problems in the eye. She didn't trust herself here.

Interesting.

"Did he? And what did he want from you? The winning lottery ticket?"

Laced with bitter sarcasm. Even more interesting.

"I doubt it. He was looking for you."

Her young guest sighed, and carefully began cutting carrots again, but her hands shook and her body was rigid.

"Yes, well. I suppose it was a matter of time. Thinking was never his strong suit and it is his job after all, to hunt down the Wicked Witch of the West."

The cynicism barely disguised the pain behind it, for those who cared to listen.

Yackle, however, had no patience for nonsense.

"I didn't say he was looking for the Wicked Witch of the West, little girl. I said he was looking for _you._"

"Some would say there is no difference."

"Some would indeed. Some would also say I have no powers."

She turned around. She met Yackle's eyes, but with less confidence than the older woman was used to.

"So what did he want then?"

She was right, Yackle thought with satisfaction. There was something there. She could look, of course. But she'd always made it a point not to do so, unless she was asked, or unless is it was absolutely vital.

"You may ask him that yourself, if you wish. He is coming back in three days."

The knife dropped.

Finally.

Yackle looked on, amused, as Elphaba frowned, obviously annoyed with herself, picked up it op from the floor and threw it on the counter. Then she looked up, eyes incredulous.

"He is coming back in three days? And you told him what? How marvelous, bring snacks? He could be bringing back the entire force and then what? You're a fool!"

She ignored the last part of that sentence. The girl was upset.

"He will be alone."

Elphaba snorted at that.

"You don't know that. His job is to kill me!"

Really. The girl was stubborn as a mule. Never listened. Never. Yackle took a breath, willing patience to hold out. Things tended to get messy when she lost her patience. And Elphaba had a way of making her lose her patience.

"He will be alone, because he is not looking to kill you. You silly girl! He is not looking to harm you, and I do not believe you don't know this, or you would not be behaving like a child! Now, he will be back here in three days. It is entirely up to you to meet with him or not. Though I feel I must warn you; he seemed very determined to find you and even more unwilling to take no for an answer."

Elphaba stood frozen, but the air around her seemed to sparkle. Yes, the girl was upset.

"I can not possibly meet with him! You're asking me to face the Captain of the army trained to capture me!"

"My girl, I am not asking you for anything. It is not anything to me whether you do or don't. But I think it is something to you. And from what I have seen,"

Elphaba was about to protest but she silenced her with a look.

"By looking at him and listening to him, not by any means of power, that it is a great deal to him. Meet with him, Elphaba. You both will be better off, one way or another."

Of course, she could only hope that was true.

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><p><strong>Review, please? I'd love to hear what you think :)<strong>

**Not to worry, next chapter will bring the big reunion :P**


	9. Chapter 9

**Skin Deep**

**Chapter 9**

**A/N They're here :)**

**And an extra long one, too :P**

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><p>He would have thought the three days Yackle had enforced upon him, would pass slowly. Slower than anything, but he was wrong. He never would have thought they'd go by so fast, but with three days left to take care of everything he would leave behind, and he refused to think he would be coming back, there was too much to do.<p>

It was the day he was supposed to leave now. He was supposed to leave in just a few hours and he still hadn't talked to Glinda. He wanted to, he had to, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He doubted it would be a surprise to her. She knew he wasn't in love with her. But she did expect him to stay with her. Just as he had done for the past years.

He took a deep breath. Glanced around him and knew there was no way around it anymore and no time to postpone it.

He'd made a choice a long time ago.

Now, the time had come to face the consequences.

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><p>She kept herself busy for three days. From sunrise to sundown, she kept herself occupied. She prepared more explosives, more potions, more meals. She did what needed to be done, many more things that didn't and took more risks than she had in a long time. Anything and everything to keep her mind off what was happening, what would happen, what <em>could <em>happen.

She told herself she'd leave before he came back. Told herself she'd take off. She was too busy. She didn't have time. She had no wish to see him.

Told Yackle the same thing.

She was lying through her teeth.

She wanted to mean it, she wanted to go. She wanted to want to go.

She wouldn't.

She wouldn't and she knew it. And so did Yackle.

Neither mentioned the Captain of the Guard, the Prince of the Vinkus.

But both had him in mind for three full days.

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><p>As he made his way through the streets of the Emerald City, crossing the invisible line between one life and another, fully aware of the choice he was making and feeling both lighter and heavy-hearted because of it, he knew, in reality, that there was big chance she wouldn't be there.<p>

He knew that, but he refused to acknowledge it.

This was what he'd waited for for three years. He couldn't think of any other option than finally looking her in the eye and telling her how he felt. Couldn't think of any other outcome than that he would go with her, wherever she was going.

He wasn't leaving her. Ever again.

He didn't take the time to contemplate what her life might be like, what his life would be like, a life on the run.

He didn't take that time because it didn't matter. It wouldn't change the outcome.

No matter what she did and where she did it.

So she had to be there. She simply had to be.

If not...

If not...well...there could be no 'if not'. There was no room that option.

He came to a halt in front of the worn-down building and put his hand on the doorknob, but couldn't bring himself to open it.

She'd be there.

He told himself over and over again in his head.

She'd be there.

But even as he tried to convince himself, he knew he didn't fully believe it. He couldn't be sure. There might have never been anything between them, except for what he had wanted to happen. He'd been sure that she'd felt something for him back then but years had passed and he was no longer sure, as he stood on the brink of finding out, if maybe he'd just made it up. Maybe it had all been him. Maybe it had been wishful thinking and nothing more.

He would find out tonight.

For the second time that night, he took a deep breath before opening a door.

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><p>She stood in the dark and told her heart not to flutter. Her throat not to close up. Her head to remain calm. And failed at all of those.<p>

She'd known for a very long time that she loved Fiyero Tiggular. That she was _in_ love with Fiyero Tiggular. But she'd thought that, after all these years, she'd have more control over it. He'd have less effect.

She thought she'd be stronger.

She wasn't.

She heard the doorknob rattle and nearly ran. Her heart pounding so hard and so fast it made her body shake, her head swim.

The door opened and to her shock, she felt her eyes well up.

Fiyero.

Fiyero.

_Fiyero_.

Oh Oz, what was she going to do now?

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><p>She watched him from the shadows. She was glad, once again, that she'd learned to blend into the darkness so well. Oz, he hadn't changed.<p>

Well, he had, actually. She could see that. He'd grown, if that made any sense. He looked older, wiser. There were lines around his eyes, his hair was perfectly in place. His uniform was impeccable. He was... Oz, he was beautiful. She'd always thought so, of course, even when she'd been too intent on disliking him to admit to it, but now that he was right in front of her, after all this time, it struck her all over again. He was absurdly, utterly beautiful.

What could he possibly want from her?

"Hello?"

The sound of his voice, for the first time in years, made her jump a little. Made her shiver with want.

She knew she would have to face him eventually. Couldn't let him stand there, peering into the darkness.

She moved without sound, lit a candle with a flick of her wrist so as not to make a noise and stepped forward.

"Hello Fiyero."

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><p>He turned around so fast it made his head spin.<p>

Two words from her and his heart nearly stopped.

Standing in the middle of the room, offense was the best defense after all, staring him straight in the eye was Elphaba.

Elphaba...

Nothing but her name filled his head. As if there were too many thoughts fighting for attention and they all came together in that one word, spilling forward again and again, each time with a different emotion attached to it.

_Elphaba. _

_Elphaba. _

_Elphaba. _

It took him a moment to remember how to breathe and when he drew one, it was shaky.

He swallowed and wondered for a moment what he was supposed to do now. What was he supposed to say? He knew what he wanted to tell her, but it seemed too strange now, too crazy, too impossible to start spouting off declarations of love to a woman he hadn't seen in three years, hadn't spoken to. A woman he didn't _know_.

She stood at the far end of the room, on the very edge of the darkness behind her, ready to pull back into it, it seemed.

"Yackle tells me you wished to see me."

She sounded so...business-like. He wanted to step forward, but didn't.

"See you..." He scraped his throat.

"Yes, I wanted to see you."

He could not stop the nervous laughter that erupted at that. He'd wanted to see her, yes. That was the mildest way to put it.

"Would you care to sit down?" She needed space between them. Distance he wouldn't be able to close. She pointed at a chair, as she sat in the one opposite.

"I guess"

She nearly smiled at that. It was such a Fiyero thing to say. A small shrug accompanied it, the way it had always done at Shiz, when she'd suggested they study and he'd had no choice but to agree. Or hadn't wanted to disagree. She'd never been brave enough to wonder.

"So..." Her hands were twitchy, wringing. She was nervous, and she detested herself for it. He saw it too and it made him feel a little better.

"What brings you here, Captain?"

He frowned at that. He hadn't expected that. None of his daydreams and fantasies about this moment had included his job at all. Strange as it may be.

This had always been about _them_.

Elphaba and Fiyero.

He didn't want anything else. He couldn't deal with anything else.

"Elphaba..."

She looked at him, expectantly. She really wanted to know what he was doing there.

What was she expecting?

He started over.

"Elphaba..."

He couldn't finish it because he didn't know how to. What was he supposed to say?

"Elphaba."

She was losing her patience, he could tell. He'd always been able to tell.

"Elphaba."

He smiled at the sound of her name from his lips. It had been such a long time. And here she was. Right here.

Where had she been all this time?

He couldn't stop the question from tumbling from his lips.

"Where have you _been_?"

He wanted to know more than anything, but realized this was not the time, nor the most important question.

"Never mind. You can tell me that later." Her eyes widened at that, her eyebrows raised.

He ignored it. He didn't know why she was so surprised. He considered for a moment telling her everything right then but knew immediately that wasn't the best approach. If she was anything like she had been, it would only scare her away. He opted for what he'd always found the most successful tactic; don't give her a choice.

He looked around and plowed on, aware of what he was doing and that it might not work, but also aware that he had to do something, because she clearly wasn't going to, and this was his best shot. _Might be_ his best shot.

"So where are we going?"

Her eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline.

"_We?_"

He was treading on very slippery ice, but there was no turning back.

"Well...yes.." Obviously. Seriously.

She looked at him as if he were a child that needed to be explained something he should already know.

"Fiyero."

He ignored that too. He couldn't afford to get distracted.

"Can that infamous broom of yours carry two?"

He didn't want to hear what she had to say. He didn't want to hear her protest.

"Fiyero..."

He would not let her.

"I'm not sure there's another way so I really hope it does.."

Desperation and panic made her voice pitch.

"Fiyero!"

She'd had enough. Patience had never been her virtue.

He'd always had plenty, especially with her but it was nowhere to be found today.

"Elphaba! You can't honestly believe I am going to let you leave here without me!"

They stared at each other, over a wall of silence, simmering anger and longing.

Too much of the latter.

It was a whirlwind then. He couldn't hold himself back anymore. He leaped forward, to where she stood, shell-shocked, one hand found its way to her face, cupped her cheek, his fingers in her hair. The other landed on her hip, nearly crushing bone as he pulled her to him.

His lips were on hers before she could protest. She would have, had she known, had she seen it coming, had she not wanted it this much. She'd have stopped him, she was sure she would have, but she didn't know how to stop something like this.

_Fiyero. _

She'd dreamed about this for three years. Longer than that. How was she supposed to stop this? But she knew she had to. She could not allow him to distract her so easily, to sway her from what she knew was the best thing. From what she knew was right. And this wasn't right. This was the Captain of the Gale Force. Her best friend's boyfriend and, if the gossip was anything to go by, soon-to-be-husband.

She managed to pull back. To pull herself away.

He was out of breath and his fingers clenched and unclenched, their grip on her waist so tight it should hurt. She put her hands against his chest to push him away but his grip only tightened further.

"Fiyero. No."

She struggled for breath as she took a few steps backward, straightened her dress so she wouldn't have to look at him.

He watched her retreat. 3, 4, 5 steps away from him, and the panic he felt at that made his chest cramp up.

"Elphaba..."

"No. Fiyero." She took another deep breath. Why was she always out of breath when he was around? Oz...nothing had changed.

"No. We...I need to think._ You_ need to think. For a minute, you need to think of what you're doing."

He looked at her in confusion.

"You think I need to_ think?_ The last thing I need to do is think."

The look on her face took him back three years.

"Fiyero. Why are you here?"

"I..." What was he supposed to say? Why was she even asking?

"For you." Of course. He couldn't make it any simpler. It couldn't be any simpler. Wasn't it obvious? Hadn't it always been obvious?

"Why?"

"Well...I..." He wanted to tell her, he did. But the way she looked at him unnerved him. She was scarier than he remembered. More intimidating now that she held all the power. Even if she didn't know it.

"You're Captain now, after all." The time to breathe, his internal struggle, had allowed her to put her defense back up. Full force.

Dammit.

"Elphaba..."

"What do you want from me, _Captain?_"

She was being nasty and she was doing it on purpose.

She never did have any people skills. He supposed three years spent alone hadn't done much to help.

"Elphaba..."

"You found the Wicked Witch of the West. Congratulations. Now what do you plan to do?"

Oz, she was impossible. He told himself to stay calm. Reminded himself that he loved her. That strangling her wouldn't make him happy, in the end.

"Elphaba. Enough."

His mouth was set. Grim. Determined.

"Enough of that. You know that I'm not here to hurt you."

"I know nothing of the sort, I..."

She never finished her sentence. He didn't let her.

"You _know _that, or you wouldn't be here. You wouldn't have come."

She said nothing at that, so he knew he was right.

He didn't want to argue. She was so self righteous! Oz, this woman. How had he forgotten about how absolutely insane she drove him?

He took a tentative step forward. Her eyes narrowed but she didn't move. He bit back a grin.

He hadn't forgotten.

He loved that.

"Elphaba..I'm here for _you_. I came her looking for you, like I've been looking for you, searching for you, for three years. I am Captain, I joined the Gale Force, to find you. Or have a chance at it, at least. To keep track of you, as much as you let me."

Her face didn't change, but something in her eyes did.

"Why?"

"Elphaba.." How many time had he said her name? More in the last ten minutes than in the last three years.

"_Why_, Fiyero?"

He closed the distance left between them, and looked into her eyes and smiled, gently, innocently, adoringly. His face lit up, sparkles in his blue, blue (oh...too blue) eyes, let his finger trace down her nose.

"Because I love you, Elphie."

He shook his head lightly, as if he couldn't believe that he was there, as if he couldn't believe he still had to explain this to her. He kissed the tip of her nose, then her forehead, then her lips. Softly.

"Why else would I be here? What else would I be doing but look for you?"

His hands cupped his face now, his thumbs stroking her temples, her cheeks and he let his nose touch hers, rubbing teasingly, before he pulled back only the slightest bit to look straight and unflinching, into her eyes.

"I love you."

* * *

><p>She stared at him.<p>

_What else would I be doing but look for you?_

_I love you. _

_I love you. _

_I love you. _

The words echoed in her head, danced around, bounced off the walls.

_I love you. _

Never, not once, had she expected to hear those words.

Dreamed about them, Hoped for them. Wished.

But never expected it.

Not from him.

Especially not from him.

Now here they were. Hanging in the air. Filling the silence between them.

What now?

Oz, Oz, Oz, what now?

* * *

><p>She didn't get a chance to think.<p>

He leaned forward, ever so slowly, and kissed her.

Not like the first time. Slower his time. Gentler.

Softly.

Whispers of kisses. His lips hovering over hers, no more than butterfly touches.

It unraveled her.

_No one_ had ever been gentle with her.

No one.

She wasn't sure, wasn't sure at all, how she was supposed to keep herself together.

But he kept going. Kept letting his lips flutter over hers, the tip of his tongue darting to touch hers, but only barely.

She'd read about it, she'd heard about it, but she hadn't known that a kiss...that a kiss could be like this.

Could do all this.

There'd be nothing left of her.

She needed to stop this.

But how?

How was she supposed to pull back, now that his hands had wound themselves into her hair, were gliding through the black, as gently as his kisses were. His fingers running, winding, through it as if he were handling silk.

She was going to pull away, she really was, but his lips found their way to her neck, were working their way up to her ear, one of his hands on her back. Warm. Solid.

Loving.

She lost.

She wound her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his.

* * *

><p>He was pretty sure he was dreaming.<p>

This was way too much like on his many fantasies.

He'd felt her internal struggle, the voice that would tell her she shouldn't. He'd known it would be there and he'd felt her fight.

So he felt her give in.

Felt her arms wind around his neck, her body pressing against him, hesitantly.

She still wasn't sure about it.

Wasn't sure she could trust him.

Wasn't sure she wouldn't regret it.

But she gave in.

She was giving it a chance.

Them.

She was giving them a chance.

He took it.

He used the hand he had on her back to press her closer to him, every inch of her body touching his. Let the hand that was playing with her hair, cup her cheek and deepened the kiss.

His lips were still on hers, his hand dropped down from her back to around her waist, when he heard it.

Something.

A door.

He pulled back, panting still, taking only a second to take in her disheveled hair and flushed face and turned towards the door.

It opened the same moment he reached for the handle.

Green and gold glittered.

His men were here.

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><p><strong>Review? It would really make my day...<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**Skin Deep **

**Chapter 10**

**A/N A thank you to James Birdsong, who has reviewed my every chapter and I can't pm to say thanks :) **

**And to everyone else who reviewed. You all know a review really has the power to make a day, so thank you :)**

* * *

><p>Turned out it was only one man.<p>

Keegan had seen his Captain walk the dingy streets by himself, in full uniform and carrying his rifle and he wasn't sure why, really but since he'd had nothing better to do and quite liked the Captain, he'd figured he might as well follow along. Something could happen that would make the Captain need some help, after all and getting in his boss' good graces couldn't hurt.

He'd watched his superior enter a rundown building and remembered from the pub that this was where the fortune teller did her business. He remembered because, even though he'd smirked and snorted with them, he'd been secretly intrigued. He thought it quite strange, too, for all his colleagues to be so skeptic about it. After all, they didn't doubt the magical powers of the Wicked Witch. If _she_ had actual powers, then why not others too? But he'd said nothing of course. He was part of a whole and generally liked and he wanted to keep it that way.

Keegan didn't know what the Captain was doing there, as he had been so openly disdainful of the notion that a fortune teller was doing business in town and he supposed, for a fleeting second, that it was rather strange that the Captain would go there alone, at this time, but Keegan also knew it wasn't his place to question his boss. So he didn't think anything, didn't say anything and tried not to make a noise. He'd just wait outside, to be sure, to be safe.

He couldn't hear what was being said but he assumed that if a fight broke out or if any crisis situation would occur, he'd notice or hear something. He'd be able to do something. He could help.

For the longest time, he didn't hear anything, and though he tried to be patient and tried harder not to think anything of it, it didn't sit right with him. He climbed up a garbage can to try and look through the dusty and boarded windows but found it was too dark. He climbed down again and leaned against the door, pressing his face against it, let his fingers search for a slit, a crack, a hole...anything, but came up empty.

He knelt and tried to peek through the keyhole.

He didn't see much, but he kept his focus. Sooner or later, he'd see something.

He didn't have to wait quite as long this time.

As his eyes, or eye rather, adjusted itself to the darkness, he could make out the glittering gold of the Gale Force uniform and realized he was staring at his Captain's back. The Captain stood there, obviously doing something but the room was too dark to see.

He heard a moan and stiffened. Was someone hurt?

He tried to look closer.

Maybe someone had gotten hurt...

Or...

He couldn't be sure and he thought he had to be wrong, had to be, but...

But...Was...was the Captain ….Keegan didn't even want to finish the thought. He tried to come up with a different explanation, _any_ explanation, but came up empty handed.

He was...kissing someone.

There was no way around it.

His boss hadn't come here for a confrontation with the Witch in question. He hadn't come to arrest anyone. He hadn't even come to have his fortune told.

He had come to...to kiss someone. And whatever would follow. Keegan didn't really want to know, but he couldn't stop staring.

But...but...he was going to be married to Miss Glinda. Everyone knew that. Why would he need to kiss someone, someone that Keegan _knew _was not Glinda, if he was about to get married? And to someone that looked like Miss Glinda?

He was about to pull back, thinking that he'd leave Fiyero Tiggular's business to Fiyero Tiggular, because this obviously was not any 'Captain of the Gale Force' business, when he saw arms come up and wrap themselves around his boss' neck. Long, black-clad arms, that he might never have distinguished from the darkness that surrounded the pair, if he hadn't seen the hands.

Green hands.

Keegan didn't hesitate. He didn't pause to contemplate why his Captain, the hunter of the Wicked Witch, would be kissing Oz' greatest enemy.

He got up in one fluid motion, got his rifle and reached for the door.

* * *

><p>It opened easily and almost right into the tall and rather imposing form of his Captain, staring right at him. He wanted to say something, thought somewhere in the back of his head that he should, but all he could focus on was the green.<p>

The green of the woman still on the other side of the room, who had whirled around and looked between him and his Captain, quickly, wildly, as if she was trying to decide something.

He noticed, and he didn't know why he noticed, how much younger she seemed. How much younger she was, than she'd appeared on all the posters, in all the stories.

The Wicked Witch.

This was the Wicked Witch.

She was young, and...well...green. Green, but her hair was so long and she looked at him as if she was afraid, and then at the Captain as if she was...hurt? And she was so _young_...

"Elphaba!"

The Captain's voice.

_Who was Elphaba?_

But the green woman turned her head and Keegan understood.

He didn't understand any of it, at all, but he knew there was more going on than he'd ever know.

He also knew that his job was to catch the Wicked Witch of the West.

And this was her.

She didn't look it right now maybe, but this had to be her.

Who else had green skin?

He pointed his rifle at her, and heard it go off.

And then realized he hadn't even pulled the trigger yet.

How had it gone off?

But then his stomach hurt, and he understood that it wasn't his rifle that had gone off.

It was the Captain's.

And it hadn't aimed at the Witch.

* * *

><p>She heard a gunshot and whirled around again, only to see that the gun that had been pointed at her, was now on the floor, next to the boy that had been holding it. Her eyes searched for Fiyero and he was looking at the same sight, his hand still gripping the gun he'd fired not moments ago.<p>

For one brief moment, when she'd seen the uniform in the doorway, she'd suspected, she'd feared, that it had been a trap. That it had all been a lie. That Fiyero had lied to her to capture her. That he _had_ changed.

But one look at his face, eyes wide and panic-stricken and his body trembling as a result of the shot, removed all her doubt.

He'd shot a man.

One of his soldiers.

For her.

"Fiyero!"

He met her eyes.

"I..." He shook his head, in disbelief, in guilt, in panic. But also in determination, conviction and..._relief?_

"He was going to kill you."

He was right, of course, but somehow that didn't make it easier.

But the past three years had had Elphaba on alert non-stop and with survival first and foremost in her mind, and that was a habit not easy to shake. Focus on staying alive and whole, everything else, everything she was feeling, could come later.

Especially now.

He'd shot one of his own. If the boy lived, he'd make Fiyero a fugitive too. If he died...

Well, that would make it easier...

As cold and detached as it sounded even to her own ears, she knew it would be better for Fiyero's chances if the boy died. The people would blame it on her, they'd be able to make up some story about how Fiyero had tried to save him...every Ozian would be glad to believe it.

It would be a lie, a big and terrible lie and she was so adverse to lying the thought alone made her sick, but it would keep Fiyero safe. For Fiyero's safety...for Fiyero...she'd lie.

Only...she couldn't just let him die. The boy. He was Gale Force, he was the enemy, he'd wanted to kill her...but...he was so young and she wasn't a murderer. No matter what the Wizard said, no matter what the papers wrote, what the people feared...she was not a murderer. Not yet.

She ran over to the boy, bleeding on the floor and he tried to get away from her when he saw her coming closer.

"Oh, stop moving." She snapped. Really. Here he was, already bleeding to death from a wound she hadn't even caused and he was worried over her mere presence. She'd never had much patience for the stupid and situations such as these did not help matters.

"I am trying to help you, though I am starting to question why exactly."

Her words were harsh and her tone cutting but she sank to her knees beside him and lifted his shirt with a worried look on her face. It wasn't good. If he stayed her much longer, without any help, he would certainly die.

"Fiyero. Get water and towels. And gauze, and I need..." She took the time to look at the man she was speaking to but he didn't respond. He was looking at the blood that spread around Keegan's body. He hadn't been prepared for this. How could he have been?

"Fiyero!"

She was about to get up when he looked at her.

"Yes! I'm sorry. Of course. Shit. Keegan."

He looked at Elphaba and moved in her direction.

"He's twenty. Twenty. He doesn't know anything."

He pleaded for the other man, even as he hated him for aiming that rifle at the woman he'd only just found.

"I know, Fiyero. I'm going to try but I need some supplies...and my book. Hurry!"

He ran towards where he suspected a kitchen-like area was but never made it there because suddenly another voice carried through the room, calm and clear.

"I am here, I am here. No panic needed now." Yackle walked into the room, so quickly and agile it seemed inappropriate for someone her age. Though, Elphaba realized, she had no idea how old Yackle was. "No panic needed, and no book either."

She put her shawl on a chair, and surveyed the room, watched as Fiyero stood in the doorway to the kitchen, in doubt. He was always in doubt, it seemed.

"I told you it was best I stay, didn't I?" She didn't look at Elphaba, but it was clear she was speaking to her, continuing an earlier discussion.

"But you refused, as a bullheaded young thing." She stopped next to Elphaba and joined her on the floor. The two didn't look at each other, only at Keegan, as Yackle's hands replaced green ones to examine the wound, "Refused to see sense and let me stay."

"As I was right to do, you meddling old woman. This was _my_ business."

"Ah, but it is _my_ house. I stayed, as is my right. And good thing too."

"Don't tell me you knew this would happen." Elphaba moved to the side, but only slightly.

"Of course not, silly girl. I said I wouldn't look, did I not? But I know _you_ well enough to know there's always trouble." She looked at the green woman now, but there was kindness and understanding in her eyes.

"And I saw enough of _him" _She nodded in Fiyero's direction, "to know he wasn't going to help much in preventing it."

Yackle looked from Elphaba to Fiyero, who still stood, unsure, at the far end of the room.

"I suppose it has worked out for the better? Seeing as how there is only one other Gale Force soldier here and he is currently bleeding all over my floor."

There was no sarcasm there. Yackle did not seem worried about Keegan. Fiyero didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing.

"Nothing worked out for the better. Someone was shot and nothing has changed." Elphaba still hadn't moved from her place beside Keegan, but she wasn't truly focused on the boy anymore. Now that Yackle was there, the other matters at hand needed to be dealt with.

Fiyero stepped forward then, feeling the need to make his presence knows. To speak up and be accounted for.

"That's not true, is it? _I _changed. Everything changed."

She looked over at him.

"I have to leave."

Yackle saw the hurt on Fiyero's face, with anger and panic and weariness fighting for dominance. She took pity on him. She was sure it could not be easy to love Elphaba as he did. The old woman found she rooted for him. He was young, but he knew who he was and what he wanted, which was more than could be said for most his age. Aside from that, the silly green girl, as much as Yackle respected and sympathized with her , could use someone like him. Someone who could take her down a notch or two, simply by loving her.

"You _both_ have to leave. This boy will live, but along with him will the news that the Captain switched sides. Master Tiggular is a fugitive too now."

"He doesn't have to be! We can think of something!"

Elphaba knew she was panicking, but couldn't stop it. Oz, she couldn't do this. How could she leave with him? How was she supposed to deal with all this, with _him_? She couldn't.

"Yes, we can. I can let this boy die." Yackle removed her hands from Keegan's stomach and looked at them calmly.

"If I do, then so will what happened here tonight. You can carry on the way you have. Both of you could."

"No."

Fiyero was all attention, and anger took over. Anger and frustration at being left out of the argument. The fact that Keegan could be, would be, fine had him focused once again on what he had come for in the first place.

Elphaba looked at him, exasperated.

"Fiyero. Of course, she will not let him die." She looked at Yackle then, sharply.

"You will not let him die. There are other ways. You have the power to make him forget. Just make him forget what he saw and heard and it will all..."

"No!" He stepped forward and grabbed her shoulder, forced her to look at him.

"No. Elphaba. I don't know how many more times you need me to repeat it. I am coming with you. You are not leaving me. I am not leaving you. Ever."

He didn't allow her to look away.

"Ever."

Yackle resumed her work on Keegan.

"There now. All settled. You two go on and take off now. I will handle this." She didn't look up from what she was doing anymore but her voice changed.

"Tomorrow, whatever this boy may say, the hunt for the both of you will start. Make sure you get far enough away." It was both a warning and goodbye.

Elphaba looked as if she wanted to say something, but she seemed to change her mind at the last second. She marched across the room to grab her broom, her bag, her book. Then turned around to the man still standing stock-still in the middle of the room.

"Fiyero!"

He looked at her. Waited for her to argue. Expecting her to run. But she looked back at him, an undefinable look in her eyes.

"We have to go!"

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><p><strong>So...review? It would make me so very happy :)<strong>


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11. **

**A/N I keep getting story alerts and favourites, even! Thank you. I am glad there's people somewhere in the world, enjoying this story :)**

**On with the show, then.**

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><p>He was glad of it now. Of the three days Yackle had made him take. If he had just disappeared like this Glinda would not have been able to cope.<p>

It was the only clear thought that ran through his head as he felt the pull of gravity, as she grabbed, no.._yanked_ him by the stiff starched collar of his uniform, dragged him off, up the shaky stairway, to the window and ordered him to hold on to her. And they were off.

On a broom.

Her infamous broom.

It was really real. As was she.

His fingers clenched and unclenched, almost rhythmically, on her hips.

He tried to focus on the events of that evening, on what transpired, but he couldn't. He didn't know if it was his mind trying to save him from a breakdown or simply the effect of being near her, but all he could focus on was the feel of her body pressed up against his, as she steered the broom in whatever direction she deemed safest.

He knows they have to talk about what happened, about everything that was said and done tonight but for now, he allows himself a moment to revel in the fact that they're together. She didn't leave without him, as he was sure she was going to do.

And she'd kissed him back.

It hadn't all been in his head. The look on her face when he'd told her he loved her, had made that clear enough.

She was an enigma, a true puzzle to solve, but he'd learned to read her, at least a little bit, a long time ago and although she must undoubtedly have changed in the years gone by, he hoped there was enough left of what had been between them, to help him now.

She'd kissed him back and she'd given him a chance in that moment, but he was pretty sure he was going to have to start all over again.

Suspecting, even knowing, that she felt something for him too, didn't make it easier. If anything, it made it harder. She was not one to allow herself anything, certainly not something she felt she couldn't trust and she didn't show weaknesses. She didn't show herself. And he guessed that by giving in, she'd showed him something she'd not wanted him to see. He was going to have to convince her all over again.

He tried to think of a way to do that, tried to stay focused on that, but the events of that evening had made an impact. He was still distracted by her nearness, the smell of her around him and her hair whipping in his face, but everything that happened kept playing in his head. For all the planning he'd done, he'd never thought about anyone following him. Where had Keegan even come from? And what would he tell his fellow soldiers? How much did he even know? How much had he seen?

He feels bad about it now. So bad that he can barely acknowledge the thought, but he can't help but feel relief. He knows it's wrong. He had never wanted to see anyone get hurt. But when he saw Keegan point his rifle at Elphaba...

His training had paid off much better than he ever could have hoped. His body had acted out of its own accord, pulling the trigger before Keegan could. So he can't help but feel relief. Relief at being fast enough, relief at Yackle assuring them Keegan would live and relief at having to flee the city so suddenly, with Elphaba.

It was far from the ideal circumstance and not one of his many fantasies had included shooting a man and having to take off on an enchanted broomstick to avoid being captured and killed himself. But at least now, this way, at least she was with him. They were together.

Yes, he regrets _having_ to shoot, but he doesn't regret doing it. And he can't help but think this was preferable over having to convince her to let him come with her. He has a feeling that he would not have been on this broom.

* * *

><p>Elphaba tried not to concentrate on his hands, currently holding onto her hips for dear life. Holding on a lot harder than necessary. It made her heart jump every time he clenched his fingers, gripping that much tighter, his thumbs pressing into the flesh right above her hipbone, where his fingers had dug into before, before the soldier had come in, before... when they'd...<p>

She almost blushed at the memory. She'd never been touched like that. Hadn't thought she'd ever want to be.

She could feel her pulse throbbing and hoped against hope that he wouldn't notice. She could feel his face close to hers, his breath on her neck. And that made her think of his lips on her neck and that makes her inside squirm and cheeks flame.

Oh Oz, she couldn't do this. She wouldn't allow herself to do this. To be reduced to this.

She was the Wicked Witch of the West, flying her bewitched broomstick through the night sky with a flawless sense of direction, with powers beyond the understanding of most people in Oz, and she was turning into the blushing, stumbling school girl she'd been three years ago.

All because Fiyero Tiggular had kissed her.

* * *

><p>She landed softly on the mossy ground of the Great Forest and allowed him time to get his bearings, while she straightened her clothes, readjusted the strap of her bag. She didn't wait long, however, and she marched forward, expecting him to follow her, without looking back at him.<p>

"There's an abandoned refugee camp here. We can spend a few hours here, I think. They won't be fast enough to get here within the day, even if they knew where we were."

He stumbled, the flight and sudden landing not missing their impact on his balance and agility, and struggled a little to keep up.

"Refugee camp?"

"Animal refugee camp. They've had to move because the Gale Force...got too close." _Your_ Gale Force. She didn't say the words, but he heard them loud and clear.

"I'm sorry."

She shook her head, but what that meant exactly, wasn't clear to him. He needed her face, her eyes, to be able to read her, but she wouldn't give him that. She walked fast, much faster than he deemed necessary. The Gale Force didn't know where they were, they wouldn't be here for hours, if at all. They might not even know anything at all yet. She wasn't running from soldiers. She was running from him.

She came to halt, in the middle of ramshackle little buildings. He knew this place. He'd been here, with his men, looking for Animals. He'd been here, alone, looking for her. How close he'd been...

"Let's go. There won't be any food, but I'll be able to find some as soon as it gets light."

"I'm alright."

He wanted to ease the tension. To apologize, though how and for what he wasn't sure.

"Look. Elphaba..."

She'd made her way to one of the cabins, her hand of the doorknob, but turned around to face him now.

"Fiyero. Not now. I...I need time to think of what I'm going to do. To figure out my next move. I can't...deal with this now. And you need to sleep. You look terrible."

He flinched.

"I just mean you look tired, and after all that's happened tonight, you have a right to be. No need to get upset, Mr. Tiggular."

It slipped in, before she was even aware of it. How easy it was to forget who they were, how it easy it was to forget who she was, when he was near. She had to fight, really fight herself, to keep on top of her game. To not get lost in the tumultuous swirl of emotion and memories of days past and of wishes, dreams and hopes that his presence had always brought her. She cursed herself at his grin. She'd given too much.

"Well, Miss Thropp. I can honestly say you look astonishing."

She wanted to bristle at that, to say something sarcastic, something sharp, but nothing was working in her favour, tonight.

"Still ever the charmer I see."

"Only with you."

She just stares at him, face blank, but she has to fight to keep it that way. He knew immediately he'd made a mistake with that come-back, but it was too late now. And either way; it was the truth.

"I see. And what about Glinda?"

He sighed, frustrated with himself. He did that a lot, when he was around her, he'd noticed. Nothing much had changed there.

"Elphaba."

"Don't 'Elphaba' me. You left her. Why? How do you think she is going to handle this? Did you think about that before you decided to aim for your soldier boy?"

"He was going to shoot you! I didn't have a choice! And I hate that I had to do that to him, but I won't regret it. Not for a second, so feel free to let that one go. As for Glinda..."

She looked away, but he walked around to stand in front of her.

" As for Glinda...I said goodbye to her before I came to meet you. I ended it. She was angry, yes. And sad, but not surprised. She was never as stupid as she pretended to be."

"I know that. Don't you think I know that?"

"Well if you know that, then it shouldn't come as a surprise to you, that she saw this coming long before I did. As it turns out, she knew all about us."

"Excuse me? _Us_?"

"Yes. _Us_. And don't even pretend that you don't know what I am talking about. That might have worked before you kissed me back, but you did so don't even try. You know perfectly well that there was something there back at Shiz, and it didn't go away. As much as you may want to pretend that it did."

She shook her head, trying to convince herself as much as him.

"There was nothing, back at Shiz. Nothing! You and Glinda..."

"Me and Glinda nothing! I was stupid then, and so were you." She blanched at that but he wouldn't have it. He was on a roll now.

"Yes, you heard me. I never said anything, because I was too scared of ruining what we had, of losing my best friend and, I admit, I didn't want to hurt Glinda's feelings. I was stupid. I know that. But so were you."

"I wasn't...there wasn't...what was I supposed to do?"

He fought back the triumphant smile. He'd gone out on a bit of a limb there, hoping it would get her to admit how she felt, but he hadn't expected it to work so well. That she would rise to the bait so easily. Some things never changed apparently. Thank Oz.

"How about talk to me about how you felt? The slightest word would have done it, I guarantee you."

She was actually gaping at him, stunned at the conversation they were having. What was he even saying? None of this made any sense.

"How...I...You were with Glinda!"

"But I wasn't in love with Glinda!" He ran his hand through his hair, a sign of frustration. "I was in love with _you_!"

She'd opened her mouth to argue but fell silent at that.

"What?"

"Come on, Elphie. You can't honestly be surprised at that. Even if I hadn't told you all I told you tonight. I was with Glinda only on paper, even back at Shiz. I spent all my time with you. We spent all our time together. I practically lived in the library with you those last few months."

"I thought...I figured we were just...friends. We were supposed to be just friends."

"Yeah. I managed to fool myself into believing that for way too long, but...in the end..."

"So why didn't you say anything?" The question had left her mouth before she could stop it and she startled herself with it. It wasn't what she had intended to say, she hadn't meant to ask, but she did want to know. It surprised her how much she wanted to know. But the guilt set in and the thought of her former room mate, her only friend, made her want to throw up.

"I mean...apart from Glinda...not that that isn't a good enough reason...I mean..."

_Glinda. _

_Oh, Glinda._

"I was going to tell you when you came back from the Emerald City."

She eyed him, disbelief clear on her face. He bit back a weary sigh and kept going, his voice raspy and his movements slow and dragging. He was tired. He'd found her and he'd kissed her and he'd told her everything he'd wanted to tell her. But his dreams hadn't focused on the painful conversations, his fantasies hadn't included him being unable to convince her of his feelings and intentions.

He needed sleep. He needed a moment. Just a moment. A moment like they'd had before Keegan had barged in. A moment in which she believed him enough to just be with him. He just wanted to be with her, just with her, for a moment.

No such luck. He'd have to do this first. He ran a hand over his face and spoke again.

"I was at the train station to pick you up. Both of you. I was going to take Glinda to lunch to tell her the truth and break up with her and then I was going to try my hardest to convince you to give me a chance. But you never came back..."

He doesn't want to think back to that day, the day he'd felt his heart break for the very first time, and he sure as hell doesn't want to talk about it. Not tonight. Not now. Not after everything that's happened. Not when they're finally together. .

"You never came back and I couldn't...I couldn't tell Glinda, when she was so hurt. And ….it was just us then, who knew the truth about you. I couldn't leave. But I was resolved to find you so I joined the Gale Force and took the Captain's position when it was offered to me, because I figured it would be my best chance of tracking you down."

He stared back at her, trying to convey all that he was feeling, all of it, with one look and hoped it would be enough. He didn't have many words left any more.

"And I did."

He watched her eyes and saw the change. Saw the tiny speck of trust returning, ever so slowly. Saw the hope in her eyes. The sun was setting and the colours of the sky cast a glow around her that took his breath away. She was really there. Oz, she was so beautiful. She didn't see it, he knew that, but she was. She was mesmerizing. He closed the distance between them.

"Fiyero.."

But her voice was only a whisper now, his name on her lips only a whimper. Maybe he'd get his moment, after all.

"Shh...don't talk. Don't talk now."

And he kissed her.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading :)<strong>

**Review? Please? **


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**A/N You can probably guess what happens in this chapter, seeing as how the last chapter ended :P**

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><p>She gave up.<p>

She didn't want to fight him anymore. Wasn't sure she even could.

He was here with her now, even if it was only for one night. For this remainder of a night. Even if, when the morning came, he would turn back around and walk away.

Even if he changed his mind at sun-up...she was pretty sure it would all be worth it.

To just have this...it was more than she'd ever have bargained for. More than she'd dared to ever hope for.

This was it.

If she let this happen, she might regret it at some point in the future. Maybe.

But if she walked away now, she'd regret it for the rest of her life. Without a doubt.

As she felt that knowledge settle in her mind, she felt the decision she'd made without making it wind its way around her body, and it made her fist her hands in the sleeves of his Gale Force jacket, that horrible Gale Force jacket that she loathed. It made her press her body against his and revel in the feeling of his hands on her back, still fisted in her hair, pulling her with him as he walked backwards and came to a stop with his back against the bark of a tree.

His one hand went up, to cup her cheek, slide down her neck, his lips following in its wake and lingering just by her ear, as his hand traveled further down and joined his other hand that slid lower and lower down her back.

He grabbed hold of her and turned them around, her back against the rough bark of the tree and his body pressing her against it even harder.

He wasn't being gentle any more. He wasn't careful. He was losing control and she loved every second of it. Even until now, a part of her had believed he was...not lying really...but...fooling himself into believing he wanted her, for whatever reason. But now, as she wound her arms around his neck, let her fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck, and she felt him moan into the kiss, she knew he hadn't been lying.

He really wanted her.

_Her. _

Fiyero Tiggular. Without a shadow of a doubt, the single most beautiful man she'd ever met. And he wanted _her. _

She smiled into the kiss and jumped up a little to wrap both her legs around his waist, her dress riding up as she did so and she watched as he pulled back, shocked, his eyes clouded with something she'd never seen in anyone's eyes before but recognized nonetheless.

She fought the urge to look away, the intensity in his eyes almost to much to bear, and felt the smile, a small but a real one, a genuine one, play at her lips.

She almost expected him to kiss her again but his eyes became a little clearer then and he smiled back at her. He leaned into her, his hands moving to support her as her legs wound around him a little tighter and he pressed his lips to hers softly.

"I love you, you know."

He didn't whisper the words, but spoke clearly. She looked back at him, eyes wide. She wasn't sure she'd ever get used to those words, even if he stayed by her side to tell her every day for the next fifty years.

_Fiyero._

Her voice was hoarse as she spoke, forcing herself to not hide her face. She wanted to say it. She so wanted to say it back.

"Fiyero..."

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><p>He couldn't move.<p>

He watched her face as she said his name and he knew that she wanted to say it back. She wanted to, but she couldn't.

It hurt, but only a little. He knew her too well.

"I know."

And he saved her by kissing her again. She'd get there, on her own, in the end.

He tried to be gentle, to not rush her into anything but she wouldn't have it. He didn't think she knew what she was doing to him or she wouldn't be doing it. When she'd wrapped her legs around his waist, he'd nearly stopped breathing.

If they kept this up, he wouldn't be able to stop and even though he wanted to continue this, more than anything (And really, more than he had ever wanted anything), he also knew that they should probably slow down.

He wanted to keep her for longer than this one night and if they did anything she might regret...she was like a shim sometimes, she could pull away so fast and he didn't want to lose what they could have.

He forced himself to pull back and he worked towards lowering her feet back to the floor. She wouldn't have it. She let her hands come back down his front, grabbed his lapels and pulled his face back to hers, her lips finding his.

He wasn't going to make it. He was never going to be able to say no again.

Especially when she let her hands work at the buttons of his shirt and slip inside.

"Elphaba." He was actually panting. He felt like a high school boy all over again. A high school boy with zero experience and the prettiest girl of the school in his arms.

"Elphaba. Stop. Wait."

He looked at her, imploring her to stop and listen.

"We...I can't..."

The look on her face changed and he knew immediately that she'd taken his hesitation the wrong way.

How on earth could she still have doubts?

He stepped back and she let him, confusion, anger and humiliation clear on her face.

"Don't go there. I want you. Okay? Let it be painfully, obviously clear that I want you. Which is why I am doing this."

She cocked her head but didn't say anything. He stepped forward again and tilted her face towards his.

"Please don't doubt that I want you. I love you. There is nothing I want more than to finish what we just started. I just...I want you to be sure...when we do...that it is what you want too."

"And who are you to decide I don't want it now?"

She slipped away, and took a few steps. Great. She was angry. Why couldn't he have kept his mouth shut. If he only knew when to shut up...then they'd still be up against that damn tree...

He felt his body respond to the memory alone and shook his head to clear it.

"I can't...I just don't want to pressure you..."

"Pressure me? Ha. As if you could." She whirled around and was back in front of him in seconds.

"Did you forget who I am? I am the Wicked Witch of the West. You can't pressure me into anything!"

He didn't know why and he was properly ashamed of it but he felt a rush of excitement at her words. How could anyone even believe for a minute that she had an evil bone in her body? And yet, the fact that everyone did...made her...more enticing...more...ridiculously sexy. She was all woman now and that dumb title only heightened the effect.

He forgot any response he might have had and captured her lips again.

She made to slap him away but her hands ended up fisting his shirt instead.

He moved back towards the tree, but she wouldn't let him. She pulled him back against her body now and sank to her knees, taking him with her.

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><p>He was going to lose this fight.<p>

He was going to stop fighting.

His hands were pulling her into his lap, even as his brain tried to talk to him.

He would give her one last chance. One last out, before he gave in.

"Elph..."

She sat straddling him, her hands working on his belt while his fumbled with the buttons on the back of her dress.

"Don't."

She kissed him, almost aggressively, then pulled back and looked him straight in the eye.

"I know you're trying to do the right thing here, and I appreciate it. But if this is all we get...all _I_ get..."

She didn't finish her sentence. She didn't have to.

His lips found hers and his teeth pulled at her bottom lip, scratched against hers.

He all but growled as she shoved his shirt off his shoulders. His hands had won the fight with the million buttons of her dress and were now sliding up her legs, pushing up her dress higher and higher, as he pushed her back onto the ground, pulling her dress off her completely.

She held her breath for a moment, as he threw the garment aside and looked at her, but the look of lust in his eyes was so clear that she didn't give herself the chance to worry over what he would think. She simply wound her arms around his neck and kissed him again.

She felt his arm slide underneath her neck, his hand coming to rest underneath her shoulder blade, but the other was all over her body, caressing what seemed like every single inch of her green green flesh, slowly but surely going lower and lower until it reached what she wanted but feared the most. But he didn't stop, he didn't stop kissing her and he didn't stop...doing what he was doing. She wasn't sure how she'd never wanted this, but knew in the back of her hazy mind that no one could have brought her this pleasure but him. She would never have let anyone else. She would never have wanted anyone else. But she wanted him.

Oh, she really wanted him. And she wanted _this_. She couldn't control her own body anymore, not even her mind. She'd never been without control of her mind before but she couldn't bring herself to care, because she had no idea what was happening to her, to her body, but every nerve seemed to be on edge, every muscle coiled, the tension in her body getting tighter and tighter, until...until...she whispered his name, over and over again as she let herself fall.

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><p>He didn't know how to do this. He tried, he tried with everything he had to calm down, to stay in control. It wasn't working. He'd known it would be good. He'd known she was what he wanted. He hadn't doubted that. Not ever.<p>

But now that he was here, now that she was here, now that this was happening...

Now that she was naked, beneath him, pressing her body against his every time he tried to pull back a little, he realized that even the best of his fantasies had not prepared him properly for the real thing. He would never have been able to accurately imagine what went through him when he felt her give in, when he felt her body relax and heard his name spill from her lips. It could have been enough, but it wasn't. He'd tried to be a gentleman. He'd tried to put this off. Now he couldn't for the life of him remember why.

She raised her head a little and smiled at him, a look of wonder and awe in her eyes and it felt like...he couldn't describe what it felt like. He slid his arm back from underneath her and used the other to move her legs a little, to settle his body between them. She pulled her legs up a little, giving him better access and he wasn't sure whether that made him want to laugh or cry. He let his arms rest on the floor, on either side of her head, let his lips touch her forehead again, her cheeks, her neck and then her lips. His teeth pulled at her bottom lip and laughed and growled at the same time when that only seemed to encourage her. He pulled back a little, trying to ask her, to prepare her, to see if she was really sure, but she only pulled her legs up more, her knees brushing his hips and he moved. He sank into her and knew immediately there would be no going back from this. He was in way over his head.

He'd had sex, a lot of it and with too many women, but nothing compared to this. Nothing. Not one of them came close. Even if he hadn't been dreaming and fantasizing about this for more than three years, even if they'd gotten to this point back at Shiz, he was sure, absolutely sure, it would have been exactly like this. It wasn't the years-long wait, the dire situation, the surroundings, or the desperation of the moment that made him want to bury his face in her hair and cry, that made him want to pledge himself to her over and over and over again. It was her.

And he couldn't come back from that. He was losing control and he was losing it fast. At this pace and with all this...blasted emotion, even if he wouldn't trade it for the world, it wouldn't last much longer. And it wasn't supposed to be like that.

In a last attempt to gain control, he flipped them around, settling her on top of him, and used the time she needed to get used to her new position to take a deep breath, but then she moved her hips, leaning forward to kiss him again and she was everywhere. Her scent all around him, her hair falling forward, past her face and into his and he loved that hair, and her body was moving, taking control of his and he couldn't fight it any longer. He was outmatched in every way.

He lost.

He flipped them once more, felt her legs wrap around his waist, buried his face in her neck and let go.

He heard her whisper his name, in a sigh more than anything else, and he thought, for a fleeting moment, that if he had to die, if he had to, then at least he'd had this.

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><p><strong>I hope you'll review...<strong>

**This was a scary thing to write, but I didn't want to skip it. It had to happen, after all. They deserved it :P**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13. **

**A/N Here we go again :)**

**Another big fat thank you to those who reviewed! I love you more than words can say :) Also to the ones who favourited and put this story on alert..it's such nice positive feedback :)**

**I hope you'll keep reading (and reviewing, of course..)..**

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><p>They hadn't left the forest yet. They hadn't moved at all. Even now, hours later, when they should have been long gone or should have at least gone inside the cabin they'd headed for. Instead, they were on the floor, near the tree that Fiyero was sure was the prettiest tree in the world (and he'd always be able to find it, under whatever circumstance), underneath the starry sky. It was cold and clammy and dark.<p>

It was the best night of his life.

She hadn't run.

There had been a moment, after his head had cleared enough for him to move and lie back onto the mossy ground and she'd pulled away, that he'd feared she'd be angry, or scared or anything else that would cause her to run. Nothing like that had happened though. She'd lain back next to him, her body close to his. They hadn't spoken, and though he told himself they didn't need to talk, he didn't want to talk, the silence unnerved him and he'd turned towards her, to lie on his side, and pulled her into his arms. Again, he'd been afraid she'd run. Again, that fear had been unfounded. She'd buried her head against his chest and he'd felt her breathing slow until she fell asleep.

Now, when they no longer had a valid excuse to still be lying on their backs, side by side, staring up at the sky, they did talk. Just talk. Teasing comments about nothing important. Just sounds to fill the silence and ease the tension that was lurking in the dark. He'd never been one for too much talking but after a screaming, agonizing silence of three years, the sound of her voice made him smile at the stars. So he kept her talking.

"So why didn't you ever say anything?" He didn't need to look at her to see her questioning frown and he kept his eyes trained on the night sky.

"If you felt the same...if you loved me too...why didn't you do anything?"

He meant it in a teasing manner. He didn't expect her to answer the question. Again, she surprised him.

"I'm green. In what world would Prince Fiyero Tiggular ever date the school freak and resident artichoke?"

Again, that matter of fact tone. As it always had before, it annoyed him.

"Don't do that." His voice was stern. "And in this world. And every other plane of existence that has both of us in it."

His tone wasn't lighter at the last part, even if the words were. He meant what he said. He fully believed it. She leaned up and turned her head to stare at him, incredulous. He met her eyes, unflinching and unforgiving.

"Don't give me that look. You know I'm serious."

She wanted to believe him, but years of being ridiculed, teased, bullied, laughed at, avoided, ignored and feared had left their scars. It was hard to believe that a man like this, a man like Fiyero, could love her. Would _choose_ to love her. Would choose _her. _

"I just don't think..."

He leaned back on his elbows, face turned towards her, eyes searing, and pressed a finger against her lips.

"Don't offend me by finishing that sentence. Don't downplay what I say or what I feel for you. I've searched for you for a long time, because I knew that my only chance at real happiness was with you, so if you say things now, for whatever reason, that diminish that...well...I wouldn't like that."

She fell silent. Her arm was starting to hurt from leaning on it for too long but she couldn't move.

How was she supposed to deal with this...this..._man_? He had matured, she realized with a shock. He'd become a man. One who had integrity, opinions, morals and authority. He could be a husband, a father. A king. And he'd fantastic at all of it. She wanted to let him know that she didn't mean to doubt him, that it was herself she doubted, her own worth, not his, but she struggled with words again, the way she did in his vicinity.

"I don't...I don't mean to...I...it's quite difficult for me to accept what you are saying."

He nodded. He knew her better than anyone else ever had.

"Well...I'm not going anywhere so I guess I'll just have to prove it to you a bit more."

With one move, she found herself back on the ground, his body hovering over hers, as he looked down with a grin. He'd become a man, but the boy who had danced through life would always be there.

"I'll start now."

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><p>The next stop they made was at another deserted camp-like site. Animals traveled from place to place, she'd told him in a clipped tone. It would forever be a touchy subject, even if she really didn't blame him personally for the actions of the Guard. Animals never stayed anywhere for too long and they would go as far away from the Emerald City as they could, never straying too far from the forests, because that's where they were safest. It was the only place they had the advantage on the Gale Force, whose soldiers were young and inexperienced and dreaded going into the woods.<p>

Elphaba had told him they'd have to do the same. For a while, they'd have to lay low, as she always did after she'd been spotted. So they would spend some time hidden away, quietly preparing for whatever was to come, but she wanted to go back to the city. He knew that much, even if she wouldn't tell him exactly what she was planning.

They spent the next few days like that. On the run, hungry and tired. Nearly freezing half the time, hot and sweaty the other half. He marveled at how she seemed able to go without food for hours at a time. Unfortunately, it also reminded him of how many times she must have actually gone without food, or shelter. She wasn't picky about anything, ate what she could find and didn't if there was nothing within reach. She didn't have many clothes. She washed her dress in the river and hung it to dry in the night. She'd steal, if she had no other choice, what she absolutely needed, but went without if she could. She didn't really sleep. She twitched and tossed and turned. She'd wake, gasping, before turning away from him, unwilling to tell him of her nightmares. He'd pull her back against him, protecting her body with his and he'd kiss the top of her head, her neck, her shoulders and he wouldn't say a word.

Yet, even now, even like this, he couldn't be happier.

He knows it's weird. He knows exactly the situation they're in. He's aware of everything that can, could, probably would, go wrong. And he cares. He does. It's in the back of his head all the time, and he worries and he's afraid. He wakes up in the middle of the night and doesn't breathe for just a second, because he can see all the blood, all the hurt, all the pain, all the terrible things that could happen to them, to _her. _All the suffering and the danger that is for now stored away but surely awaits them in their future.

Still he's happy. Happier than he's ever been.

The carelessness that he'd possessed in school, even if fake most of the time, had been gone for so long, had left when she had, that he'd forgotten how it felt. What it felt like to enjoy the small things life had to offer, in the face of the bigger things it threw your way.

He's rediscovering that now. And he wants so badly to teach her that.

His love for her, what he feels for this woman, who sits across from him now, in an old and worn and faded arm chair, reading something that he's sure would bore him to tears...what he feels for her is deep and intense and terrifying and it goes beyond anything he's ever felt for anyone and he hadn't thought it possible, but it is even more than he'd anticipated, greater than what had driven him to search for her so relentlessly all those years.

But at the same time, it's also light. Light and lovely and wonderful.

Because he is in love with this woman, whom he admires and respects and is in awe of. He's actually crazy about her. And he's pretty sure she loves him back. She hasn't actually said the words yet. He whispers them to her, as often as he can without running the risk of scaring her off. She hasn't said them back, but he can see the desperate and painful battle rage in her eyes every time he says it to her, and even though he knows it might be arrogant to presume, even though he knows he should probably consider the option that maybe she isn't saying it back because she just doesn't feel that way about him, he ignores that.

He doesn't believe it. Even if she doesn't love him the way he loves her, at least she feels something for him. Enough to want him to stay, enough to hold onto him, enough to trust him and let him into her life.

Even if she didn't love him right now, maybe she would eventually.

That thought, that hint of a promise, is enough for now.

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><p>Fiyero Tiggular was gone.<p>

The Captain of the Gale Force.

Gone.

Kidnapped by the Witch, they say.

Tortured by the Wicked Witch of the West.

He fought her, they all believe. They are all so sure. He tried to fight her, he must have. Another young soldier was there. The Witch tried to hurt him but the Captain saved his life and paid for it with his own. Will pay for it with his own, because, surely, the Witch will not let the Captain live.

Oz is in mourning already. What to do without their brave Captain?

What to do, now that Glinda the Good has lost the man she loves?

Glinda the Good stood at the entrance to the stage, where she was expected to comfort the people of Oz. To encourage them to have faith, to believe, to not fear and not worry. To tell them everything was under control.

She stood at the entrance to the stage and tried to move one foot in front of the other.

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><p>The cabin they were in now consisted of thin walls, a leaky roof, a faded chair and a bed. An actual bed. She stayed here often, she'd told him, when they'd landed on soft ground after an hours-long flight. It was one of her few recurring stops because it had a bed, something resembling a bathroom and it was far enough away from civilization to be safe.<p>

She'd gone to take a bath, leaving him to lie back on the bed, with the intention of closing his eyes for just a minute, thinking about how travel by broomstick would never be a favorite pastime but also thinking that with such means of transportation it was no wonder they'd never managed to catch her. He'd woken up now, what must be hours later, because she was folded in the chair, book in her lap, her hair already dry and pinned back up.

As he watched without moving, for some reason not wanting to alert her to his waking up, she took the pins out of her hair, distracted and without really noticing. Her eyes on the pages in front of her, legs tucked up, straining to stay comfortable in the confining space of the chair. One arm went up and pulled a pin away, letting the strands twirl and flop, over her shoulder, her arm, down to her waist. One after the other, until all the pins were on the raggedy table next to the chair and her hair was….everywhere.

Masses of straight, straight, black hair, bunched up against the back of the chair, where it got stuck trying to make its way down, tucked behind her ears, where it sat until she moved her head a little, and it would fall forward, onto the pages of her book, where she smacked it away impatiently and tucked it back again, with an irritated sigh.

The muscles in her slim legs tensed as she moved a little, her lower legs supporting her weight as she tried to get comfortable, without letting go of her book.

She rolled her shoulders and straightened her back, closed her eyes, firmly, for a moment and opened them again, refocused on the words before her.

She wasn't comfortable, her body hurt and she was tired.

But she didn't notice. She was too caught up. She was always too caught up.

Too much so to remember herself, to remember that her body needed food, needed sleep, that her mind needed rest.

He watched it all without saying a word. He would have smiled if he hadn't been so enthralled.

Elphaba Thropp.

"I'm so in love with you." The words escaped and it surprised even him.

She looked up, startled, as if she'd forgotten he was there, blushing, which was probably the most adorable thing he'd ever seen, and looked down at her book, up at his face and then at the wall behind him.

"I….erm…"

He doesn't even try to fight the grin, he lets in turn into full blown laughter.

"You really don't know what to do with that, do you? It's extremely cute."

And he means it. For woman so smart, so clever, so capable, so remarkable at everything, she has no idea what to do with him, who loves her without question. He finds it hilarious. He can afford to because he thinks she loves him too. Or she will.

Her awkwardness turns into a huff. She's annoyed, which she always is when she feels outnumbered.

"If you're just going to laugh..."

"I'm not."

For some reason, the fact that she's so intense about everything, makes him look for the brighter side, the lighter side and appreciate it, and he wants to share that with her. To show her that life can be easy and light too sometimes.

He gets up from the bed and walks over to her chair, stops in front of it and extends his hand.

She eyes him warily, suspiciously and looks back at him. Trying to figure out what he wants, what he has planned.

He doesn't say anything, just lifts an eyebrow and leaves his hand out, waiting for her to take it.

She does, because she can't refuse him. _Won't _refuse him and her curiosity always wins out.

He pulls her up from her chair and lets his free hand move to her waist, her body is pressed up close to his and a shiver runs through him at that and he wonders if that will ever go away, as he twirls her, both of them, across the room in an improvised waltz.

"What are you doing?"

"We are dancing, my love. It's called a waltz. It's a ballroom dance usually performed in…"

She sighs again, impatiently. He could be so trying sometimes.

"I know what a waltz is, thank you. I just didn't think this was the time to dance it."

"Well, it's a good thing you have me then, isn't it? As a Prince, I happen to be very well educated in the area of dancing" She huffed again at that, but he ignored it, "and it just so happens this is the perfect time for a waltz."

She wants to make another comment, but doesn't, because he's humming a tune now that she doesn't recognize and he leads her across the room in a dance she's never danced before and for a moment, she feels like…..like a woman, dancing with a man, as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

And she realizes that, for him, it was. He did this all the time. Would he miss it? Did he miss Glinda? Would he regret what he did? Did he already?

Her anxiety must shine on her face because he tightens his hold on her and lowers his head to make eye contact, but he doesn't stop dancing, so neither does she.

"Elphaba?"

When she dares to look up at him, she thinks that maybe, for this once, she should ignore her fears, because he looks at her with nothing but concern and love and there doesn't seem to be anything else on his mind. Only this. And again, she is astonished at the presence of this man in her life, who left his whole life and fortune behind to come here and waltz through a run-down cabin with her and seem perfectly content.

He can tell she's thinking again. Thinking about things that turn her mood sour and dark and he doesn't know what it is, but he wants her out of it as soon as possible. He loves her but she broods way too much. He dips his head to catch her eyes and speaks her name. He doesn't ask what she's thinking about because, honestly, he doesn't want to hear the answer. She looks back at him, anguish in her eyes, but then, slowly, the anguish is replaced by something else and she cocks her head and stares at him in wonder.

"You love me."

His eyebrows go up at that, he wasn't expecting that. That tone of surprise and unadulterated awe. He just nods. It's not a surprise to him, after all.

"Kind of." He smiles widely at her exasperated frown and comes to a stop. He lets his arms fall around her completely, in an embrace, but he doesn't break the eye contact. He's loving this moment and cherishing it.

"Okay, a lot. As I've been telling you. You trying to tell me you've only just figured it out?"

She blushed again, though he's not sure why this time, but he swoops in to save her from too much embarrassment.

"It's my dancing skills, isn't it? They are too die for, I know."

She makes a face at that, so painfully familiar from all those days gone by, that he can't help but bring his hand up to her face to tuck wayward strands of hair back behind her ear.

"Yes, Miss Thropp. I love you. A ridiculous amount."

Her eyes widen at that, because she doesn't know how to deal with compliments, with adoration, with love. She doesn't know because she's not used to being on the receiving end of any of those.

He starts moving again, a slightly different dance, but still a waltz and it's better now because she moves with him.

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><p><strong>La la la la la. Review?<strong>

**I might be inclined to send Fiyero over to your house for a little Waltz :P**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 **

**A/N Apologies for the delay! It's essays galore time at uni and I am messing up so I completely forgot! Won't happen again (I think...I'll try...) :)**

**Alright. That's enough out of me. **

**I had to repost this, after something fishy and inexplicable happened with the website. Apologies to those who might have gotten two notifications and those who might have wanted to read this before and, for some reason, couldn't. I have no clue what happened. **

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><p>Glinda the Good needed three days. Three whole days in which she refused to leave her rooms, to show her face, to face the public.<p>

The public didn't mind because they all knew the Captain of the Guard had disappeared and they were all convinced it was the Witch that had made him. That had enchanted him. Or taken him hostage. She must have done something to their Captain because he would never have left out of his own accord. And everyone knows the Witch is capable of anything. Who knew what could have happened to their Captain by now? Who knew if they would ever see his face again?

So they understood Glinda's silence and they mourned with her. Their rage at the Witch momentarily overshadowing their fear.

But Glinda the Good knows better.

Even if the young soldier that had looked at her with so much...sympathy...even if he hadn't told everyone about seeing the Witch and being knocked out, she'd have known.

She knew the boy wasn't telling them everything. He'd been found in an alley, scared, dirty, bleeding a little but not in any real danger. The gunshot wound was healing already and he'd told them all that an old woman had showed up out of nowhere and healed him. He didn't know her name and he never knew where she had come from or disappeared off to. He'd seen the Witch, he'd said, in the alley. Out of nowhere, there she was. It was all too much of blur. Maybe he'd remember properly later. For now, all he knew was that he'd seen the Witch, the Captain had been there and someone had shot him.

It was all they needed. Facts were unnecessary.

They'd taken the mixed up and confused words out of the mouth of an exhausted and injured boy and they'd spun a tale that involved the Witch wanting to kill Keegan and the Captain stepping in to save him. How he'd gotten shot was anyone's guess but that the Witch was to blame was not up for debate.

But the boy wasn't telling them the whole truth. Glinda had looked at him carefully when she'd come to hear his story and she'd known.

She knew because he didn't look her in the eye, but he kept throwing glances in her direction when he thought she wouldn't notice. But Glinda had spent her entire life being looked at and being admired and she knew exactly how to decipher any look that someone may throw her way and the one Keegan had had on his face when he looked at her, was one she didn't like.

It was pity.

She knew because it was a look she hadn't been on the receiving end of often but that she'd had in her own eyes many times.

She knew why.

He thought she didn't know. But she did.

He knew what she knew. She was sure of it.

He'd seen the witch. _That,_ she believed. He'd seen the Captain with the witch. _That_, she believed too.

That that was all he'd seen, was something she did _not_ believe.

When Fiyero had knocked on her door a few days ago, walked into the room and looked at her, she'd known.

She'd known exactly what was coming.

She'd known because there had been anguish and pain so painfully clear on his face that she could not have come to any other conclusion than that he was going to say something she didn't want to hear.

Something had changed. For him. In him.

She knew because she could read people. Much better than he thought. It was why she did what she did and why she was so good at it. No one could do what she did without excellent people skills.

As a child, as a teenager, back at Shiz, she hadn't cared enough to look deeper than needed. She hadn't cared enough to use it for anyone but herself, but even then, she'd known what Nessa wanted, what Boq felt, what Elphaba needed. She'd known better than even they knew. Galinda had been superficial and selfish. Glinda was kind and _good_ and caring. But both knew the worth of pretending.

And both knew when it was time to stop pretending.

He'd told her he had to leave. That he couldn't stay anymore. That he needed time. That he loved her so much and she deserved to be happy but that it couldn't be him, would never be him.

She'd known then that he'd found her.

So when a soldier had rushed in the next day, telling her the Captain had disappeared, had been kidnapped by the Wicked Witch, she'd known her part to play.

But she hadn't been able to do it. She hadn't been able to face the public and smile her way through yet another public announcement.

She couldn't deliver the lines she knew she had to. She needed some time.

In the safety of her chambers, she'd let the tears fall, knowing full well where he had gone and with whom. Knowing that they were probably together now and though she told herself she'd known it was coming, the sting didn't lessen.

The public thought she was in mourning, that she was grieving.

And she was.

Just not for Fiyero.

She was crying for the happy ending she had lost.

She'd convinced herself it was within reach.

But, like at Shiz, it had never been hers to begin with.

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><p>He was half convinced that electric current ran between them, and that if he watched closely enough, he'd be able to see it. He'd tried to see it once, back at Shiz. He'd touched his fingertips to her, one by one, very slowly, to see if he could catch that spark in action.<p>

He's doing it now, as she climbs into the bed, dressed in his shirt, because there's nothing else and she refuses to walk around naked, much to his chagrin. He pulls her hand towards his and presses his fingertips against hers.

"What are you doing?"

She's almost afraid to ask. His frivolity, his sillyness is something she's so unfamiliar with that, even though she really thinks it's one of his many charms and inherent to who he is, she is a little wary of it. The way people always are of the unknown.

"Trying to see the spark."

Like right now, where she simply doesn't see where this will go.

"Excuse me?"

"The spark." He looks up at her for a moment, as if to clarify, "We have a spark."

It's unbelievable, but she feels a smile coming. A big one. How does he _do_ that?

"We do?"

"Yes. We do. Back at Shiz, I tried to test that theory, by doing this, but you questioned my sanity and scared me off."

She knows her part and plays it.

"U-huh."

"You did. You were quite mean about it, as I recall."

"It's strange how I don't remember that."

"Yes, well. I have an excellent memory."

She shakes her head and stares at him, the smile still tickling the corners of her mouth but she just looks at him and moves to stretch her legs out.

"Well, can you see it?"

She'll play along because she wants to.

"The what?" He can tell she's indulging him but she's intrigued too, only he's distracted now because her legs bare and long and shapely and...

She smiles and shakes her head.

"The spark. Is this that excellent memory at work?"

"Well, you're distracting me."

The shirt she's wearing really was never that attractive on _him._

"How am I possibly distracting you? I am just sitting here."

"Precisely. In my shirt. And nothing else, I sincerely hope at least. It's distracting."

Comments like that still make her blush. She has never considered herself a woman. Or at least not one who could be attractive to a man, one who could be called sexy. She doesn't believe it now, even if he does.

"That's ridiculous. Perhaps your ability to stay with the matter at hand is just sadly lacking."

"Quite the opposite, my beautiful temptress," He can't resist and he grins at her scowl, "my ability to stay with the matter at hand is uncanny, provided the matter at hand is fascinating enough."

He never lets her hide from what makes her uncomfortable. He'll protect her against it, but he won't let her hide.

"I see. And in this case, it isn't?"

"Wrong again. You in very little clothing is more than fascinating enough."

"But the matter at hand was the spark you were looking for, whatever that may mean."

"I have a new theory that they are one and the same. Let's put it to the test,shall we?"

He pushed her back into the mattress gently and kissed his way up her neck. She spread her legs a little to give him the space to move in between them. His hands found her arms and moved them upwards, her hands above her head, his fingers laced with hers.

"See? There it is."

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><p>After three days of crying, of being angry at everyone and everything and of feeling more worthless than she ever had, Glinda the Good had had enough.<p>

She was sad.

She was tired.

She was still angry.

She was also determined.

She had lost her best friend and she had lost her fiance, but she had not lost herself.

She went out, addressed the people of Oz and told them what they wanted to hear.

And then she went to see Keegan.

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><p>He still doesn't know precisely how many days have gone by but he figures it has to be about a week. Maybe a little more. And she's getting antsy. She's twitchy, even more so, and edgy. She has no patience and she sleeps fitfully. He'd woken up to find her pacing the room and angrily flipping the pages of the Grimmerie two nights ago.<p>

She's planning something. She's been planning something for a long time and she's getting impatient. She tells him eventually. Calmly and simply. She wants to go the Emerald City, break into the palace, get back into that throne room and free those monkeys. It doesn't surprise him. What does surprise him is the coldness of her voice when he asks her what she intends to do if she gets caught.

"I will do my best to avoid that particular predicament. However, the Wizard, as we have long since established, has no powers. I can take care of him in a matter of seconds. I'd kill him, but it's not even worth it."

He swallows the panic, the questions, the nausea.

"But Morrible does have powers, doesn't she? And she always seems to be around the Wizard."

He's not sure if he's trying to help her or trying to install enough fear in her to stop her from carrying out her plan. Not that that would ever work.

She just nods, taking that into consideration. It's an issue she's spent some time on and he shudders to think how much and what possible solutions have crossed her mind. She's not afraid. Not one bit. This is what she wants and she's spent enough time preparing for it.

"Hmm...yes. Morrible. Now there's a problem if there ever was one. I do need to prepare for that. It wouldn't be ideal if she were to catch me first. I'll prepare a spell. And I have those lovely little explosives on me, of course. Even _she _is not immune to fire explosions."

She's serious too. He knows without a doubt that she'd kill the old witch, if she deemed it necessary. Maybe even if she didn't. And though he knows exactly what Morrible is like, what she has done and that Oz would be a better place without that woman in it, he still finds himself terrified of this side of Elphaba. This part of her that is not afraid to kill in order to do what she deems right.

But through all that, in spite of all that, he's more terrified _for_ her. She's powerful but she doesn't attach enough value to her own life and he fears it's what will get her killed or hurt and the thought makes bile rise in his throat.

"I'll go with you."

"No."

Her tone of voice is as firm as his can be. It leaves no room for debate.

"Elphaba. I can help you. I know the palace. I know the soldiers."

"No."

It pisses him off, really pisses him off, because he is not a child. He doesn't mind that she speaks to him that way sometimes because he knows it's her way of dealing with things, it's what she does when he makes her uncomfortable and she wants to regain her footing. But he will not be treated like a child when it comes to matters such as these.

"I don't recall asking your permission."

She looks at him in surprise. She's not used to being loved, maybe but she's not used to being defied either. He just looks back. He's been afraid of her reaction too many times to count, but he's never been afraid to defy her.

"I don't want you to come."

She's challenging him. She wants to hurt his feelings, so that he'll get angry or offended and walk away. Anything to stop him from risking his life. It won't work. Just like she won't be scared into abandoning this entire plan, he won't be angered into walking away. She knows exactly which buttons to push but she forgets sometimes that he has so much more patience than she does.

"Well, I am sorry to hear that, but it doesn't change anything."

She starts to panic. She can't have him there. She'll be too worried about him to do her job.

"You'll only endanger yourself."

He only smiles at that. It's not exactly like he didn't know that and it's the last argument she has, and the worst one.

"I don't care."

"Unfortunately, I do."

She's losing her cool. It makes him try one more time to appeal to her practical side. The one he knows she needs the most right now.

"Elphaba. What is that you're going to do exactly? You can't just barge in there and assassinate the Wizard. He'll be surrounded by guards, especially now. We don't know what Keegan told him, but if he shared the news that you were in the City, which we can count on, you can bet he'll have upped his security."

She shakes her head, unwilling to enter into this discussion. She doesn't want to hear all the reasons not to do this, because she will do it, in spite of them all. She needs to do this. Needs to, if she wants to be able to look herself in the eye.

"I have to try, at least. I have to free those monkeys. They're in there because of me, I have to get them out."

He understands that, strangely enough. He wouldn't change her for anything.

"Yes. I know that. And I may not like the fact that you'll be putting yourself in danger, again, but I also know that that is who you are, and this is what I signed up for when I chose a life with you, but you need to at least think about it and plan carefully, okay? Because you're not alone anymore and I'll be damned if I let you run off to that palace and into the hands of the Gale Force. I only just found you. I was planning on spending at least 70 years with you, not 7 days."

Her face is flushed, as it always is when he mentions their future, because her part in his future is so clear in his eyes, it's set in stone, and it humbles her and makes her want to hide her face in her hands. But she loves him. Even if she can't quite bring herself to say it yet, she loves him. And he's right. She's not alone anymore, and she needs to be less careless, if only for him. Plus, he has a good point. Logically speaking, he'd be an asset. She has absolutely no intention of letting him come, but he would just hide her broom if she tells him that, so she needs a different plan. One that will satisfy him into letting her go alone.

"Have you...have you thought about going home?"

This time, she really doesn't see what he means. She doesn't have a home. And it's not as sad as it sounds, really, because where she grew up never felt like home and whenever she thinks of the word...well...she supposes, if anything, she thinks of _him_ now.

"Erm..."

"To see your father, I mean. And Nessa. They could help."

Her eyebrows almost disappear into her hairline.

"How?"

"Your father is the governor of Munchkinland, Elphaba. He has power. He has a voice. If you could get them on your side...maybe...maybe your name could be cleared. It would take a long time, but I might be worth a shot. If they could at least not publicly condemn you. If they used their power to help you...you could at least go talk to them."

"You really think my father will let me in the house? He didn't want me there, even when I wasn't the Witch. He's hardly going to open his door to me now."

He flinches at that because, once again, he is reminded of what her life has been like, but he casts it aside. Pity doesn't do anything for her and she'd just resent him for it. Plus, there's no time. He has a point to make.

"What about Nessa?"

"I..."

"Please, Elphaba, will you just try this first? Maybe you're right. Maybe it won't work, but the worst that could happen is you lose a little time. Nessa won't turn you in with the Wizard. You're her sister."

"It may be hard for you to believe, dear Fiyero, but I was always her sister, and she never cared that much."

"I don't believe she didn't care. I saw you two together. She loved you."

"Dependent love. She needed me."

"It's still love. It might be enough."

She looked at him, hesitant. He was being way too optimistic, as per usual. But still...he had a point. Not a great one, and it was a long shot but still...if there was any chance, any at all, to get Nessa on her side...and..it'd be nice to see her sister. Their bond had never been an equal one, but she loved her sister and she'd missed her.

She sighs, in frustration and exhaustion and resignation.

"Fine. Back to Munchkinland it is."

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><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed! <strong>

**I would love a review so I am really hoping you'll leave one :)**

**I promise it will make me update faster!**

(by the way, for the sake of the story, I am going to say that Frex only recently died, which is why Fiyero doesn't know about it either...just so you don't think I'm not paying attention)


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15.**

**A/N Alright. I should be back with at least one update a week. The whole of next month, however, will leave me with very little internet connection. I will try, if you want, to finish posting the story before that time.**

**Thank you, once more, to the lovely people that review! If I could send you a Fiyero (or Glinda, or Elphaba) I would!**

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><p>Keegan had always admired Miss Glinda.<p>

Like every single other man in the Gale Force, he'd agree that she was maybe the most beautiful woman in Oz. Like all the other men, he loved to watch her walk by, to let his eyes follow her and sigh at the thought of being the man that slept in the same bed as Miss Glinda. Of course, everybody knew that Miss Glinda was practically engaged to Captain-slash-Prince Fiyero, so it never went beyond staring. Still, Keegan had watched Miss Glinda plenty of times, happily lost in the perfect curls and the glittering dresses that matched the bright blue of her eyes.

And not once had he ever thought of Miss Glinda as anything but the perfect woman.

Not once had he ever considered Miss Glinda to be intimidating in anything else than beauty.

Not once had he found himself scared of her.

Until now.

He was still in the hospital wing, and though he'd had no shortage of visitors, he was mostly left alone, to "recover" as quickly as possible (and with that everyone meant that they hoped he'd get his memory back soon, and he would tell them where the Witch was and what horrible things she'd done to his brain to make him forget) but he was restless and weary of the hospital wing. He was fine, that freaky old woman had healed him, after all, and he wanted out of this room. Out of this building.

He still hadn't told anyone exactly what had happened, simply because he had no clue what exactly _had_ happened. He'd reviewed it and played it over and over again in his head since the moment he'd woken up to find himself in the palace hospital wing, but the more he did, the less sense it made.

He'd followed the Captain and he'd seen him, for lack of a better term, making out with a woman that had turned out to be a the Wicked Witch of the West. The woman they'd all been searching for, for three years.

He'd pointed his rifle at her because it was what he'd been trained to do and before he knew it, before he could do anything, the Captain, his Captain, had pulled the trigger on him. And he'd heard the panic in his boss' voice as he'd called the woman's name, the witch's name, Elphaba.

Elphaba.

The name kept running in his head. It wouldn't stop.

Why would she have a name?

Of course, Keegan wasn't an idiot. He understood that she must have a name. She could not actually have been born bearing the name Wicked Witch of the West. But why would she have a name to the Captain of the Gale Force? And why would that Captain call that name with so much fear and panic in it, at the thought of her being shot? Wasn't that what he'd been working for? What he'd been training his men to do?

And now that they'd had her. Now that she was there...dammit! She'd been right there! But instead of doing what he was supposed to do, the Captain had shot the soldier that was going to shoot her and instead of arresting her, he'd run away with her.

Why?

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><p>She couldn't believe she had even tried.<p>

Then again, she couldn't believe it had gone this badly either.

She'd been expecting her father to throw her out, to give her up to the Wizard even. She'd been expecting Nessa to be furious. To scream at her. To try and convince her to turn herself in even.

But she hadn't been expecting this.

She hadn't been expecting her father to be dead.

"_He died of shame." _

After hearing what she'd done.

She wanted to be indifferent. She wanted to mourn. She could do neither. He'd been her father, but he'd never wanted to be her father. She couldn't grieve for what he'd never been, but she couldn't not feel it, either.

And Nessa...

She'd been so angry. So angry.

"_Not once have you ever thought to use your powers to rescue me!"_

She was right.

She'd never thought to try. She'd never thought she'd go back home.

And Boq. Oh Oz... Boq.

What had happened to her sister? To innocent little Nessa. Sweet Nessa.

But maybe she'd never been sweet little Nessa. She'd just appeared that way to everyone in contrast with her sister.

Next to a green disaster, it was quite easy to be the favorable one. But even as the thought flashed through her mind, she felt guilty. She loved Nessa. Adored her. Always had. It just hadn't been mutual. Not really.

Nessa had loved her, she supposed, but it was a love fueled by need and dependence and overshadowed by shame and resentment and her sister was still so angry. She was grieving for her father. And she blamed her sister for his death.

It was done now, anyway.

She'd done her part. She'd tried to help. She'd hoped, so much (oh, she'd hoped so much), that for once, she'd done something good. And then Boq...

That wasn't her fault. Elphaba knew that was not her fault. Nessa had always been intent on getting what she wanted. And Boq...he'd never stood a chance. But that didn't change the fact that another good intention had turned against her. He'd hate her. She knew he would.

One more good deed...

She didn't let herself finish that thought. She needed to get back to Fiyero.

Oh, how disgusted Nessa had been with her. How utterly convinced that she'd done something to Fiyero. That this, this latest scandal, had been what had caused her father's heart attack. She'd taken the Captain of the Gale Force as her hostage. She should have known that was what the people would make of it. Who would ever believe he'd done it out his own free will?

But Nessa...Nessa had believed it too.

That had hurt more than she'd cared to admit. Nessa knew that she and Fiyero had been friends at Shiz, had been close. How could her own sister believe she would sink as low as to put a spell on him? Why would she believe such a deplorable thing?

"_How could you do such a thing to him, Elphaba? I never would have thought this of you."_

_The disapproving look on her sister's face didn't make sense. _

"_Do what to whom? Nessa, what are you talking about?"_

"_To Fiyero! Don't play dumb! What did you do to him?"_

_It almost made her laugh. She'd forgotten that the news would have reached Munckinland by now. She'd never stopped to think that it would do anything to her family, that it would harm them. Her father had died over the shame of it, apparently, and now her sister demanded to know how she'd tricked Fiyero with her magical powers. It was almost, almost, funny. _

"_Nothing! Nessa...I didn't do anything to him! Of course I didn't! Why would I...I could never..."_

_But even as she denied it. Even as she defended herself against these ridiculous accusations, she felt herself surrender. If her sister believed the lies, even, then who would ever believe her?_

"_Then how? Because you're the last person he was seen with. Are you claiming you don't know where he is?"_

"_No! I...well...He came out of his own accord!"_

_Nessa's face was so skeptical, so full of disbelief, and the sting of it surprised her. She knew that her sister didn't believe her, but she'd so hoped she would. _

"_Do you really expect me to believe that?"_

_She tried one more time. _

"_Nessa...I didn't ...do...anything to him. He found me! He insisted. He made that choice himself. I didn't do that for him. He is perfectly capable of..."_

"_Why?"_

"_What?"_

"_Why? Why would he come with you?"_

_She opened her mouth but couldn't find the right words. _

"_Well...I..."_

"_Why would he ever choose you over Glinda?"_

_It was the ultimate question. And she had no answer. Why had she come alone? Why hadn't she brought Fiyero, dammit? Then he could have told Nessa. So she could have seen her sister wasn't lying, wasn't so sick as to put a love spell on a Prince with a girlfriend. She could have seen that her sister, green as she was, was loved. Or cared for, at least. But she had come alone, Fiyero wasn't here and she had no answers. _

"_I...I don't know."_

"_Well. There is your truth then, isn't it. As much as you may have wanted it or believed it even, he was always Glinda's, Elphaba. He was never yours."_

_Was she right? She didn't want to believe that. She'd always believed it, but she didn't want to anymore now. Not now that she knew what life was like, with him in it. _

"_I..."_

"_You were in love with him, back at Shiz. Even I could see that, and I never said anything because I thought you were smart enough to know that it would never be more than that. I thought you knew it would never happen. But apparently, I overestimated your sense of morality."_

_No. That wasn't fair. She didn't. She wouldn't. _

"_Nessa!"_

_She had to try. One more time, she had to try. _

"_I didn't do anything to him! I didn't put a spell on him, or kidnap him, or ...I never did! He came with me because...he loves me. He says he loves me, Nessa."_

_It was a plea, to believe her. To believe it could be true. But it was also a moment of weakness, a moment of wanting to share what she couldn't share with anyone. A moment of wanting to share something that made her happy with her sister. A moment of hope that her sister would be happy for her. _

_Something in Nessa seemed to soften a little. But it was a result of pity, not of faith. _

"_And you believe him? It could be a trap."_

_Ah. Of course. At least she knew for sure that wasn't true. He would have arrested her by now. _

"_I...I don't pretend to understand why he came with me, or why he looked for me in the first place..but...I...I.."_

_Pity was plain on Nessa's face and it cut much deeper than she'd expected. _

"_You believe him. You really think that he loves you?"_

_She wanted to say she did. Fiyero wouldn't lie to her. He had no reason to. Why would he have come with her. Why would he still be with her? But there was always that nagging voice in the back of her head, telling her she was wrong, that she was deluded to think it could ever be true. The voice that reminded her that no one had loved her before. The voice that told her to wait for the truth to catch up. _

"_I...I don't know. I...why would he lie?"_

_And the saddest thing was, she wanted an answer. She wanted Nessa to help her. _

But then Boq had begun to wake up, or make noise at least, and Nessa's attention was no longer on her sister.

"_Elphaba. Please. You are my sister and I don't wish to see you hurt, but I can't help you. I won't. I don't know if anyone can. You need to leave. And you need to let Fiyero go. And you need to stop what you're doing. Don't you see that this is wrong? It's all wrong!"_

So she'd gone. Her head filled with Nessa's voice and accusations. Her heart pounding and her pulse racing. She should have known. She'd been telling herself that since she left. She should have known. She should not have listened to Fiyero. He was an optimistic fool and she was too level-headed to listen to him. Or she should have been.

She was already halfway to the Emerald City before she realized it. The temptation was strong. She wanted to go to the palace. She wanted to rush in there and find them; the people responsible for all the lies and make them pay. The monkeys that suffered because of her foolishness and set them free. The temptation was so strong, it was almost as if it was pulling at her. She was angry and she needed to vent. She was careless enough to risk it now, she could feel it in her body, the way her blood rushed through her veins.

But she couldn't. She really couldn't. Her temper usually got the better of her. Even three years of living far _far_ under the radar with a price on her head, had not changed that. But she couldn't. Not this time.

It would do no good. She was unprepared and though she didn't care much for herself at the moment, she did care about the monkeys. And the innocent people that might be hurt. And Fiyero.

She couldn't.

She needed to return to Fiyero first. Not because she wanted to see him (because she disregarded the momentary lift of the weight pressing on her heart at the thought of seeing him) but because she needed to tell him the news of what the world apparently thought had happened to their Captain and the possibilities it brought.

He could still go back.

And if she went through with this now, if she let her temper gain the upper hand, she'd probably never see him again. And he'd never see her again. And despite Nessa's words and the haunting doubt they had caused within her, she had to acknowledge that although her little sister could be right, she could also be wrong. Fiyero cared for her, at least. That much had become clear to her, even if she didn't understand it. And if she was caught now, he might come to her rescue. He might do something stupid to save her, because he had a knack for doing stupid, noble things and she would never be able to live with herself if something happened to him.

If she went through with this now, and she failed and got captured...he'd never have a chance. If she died, well...he probably wouldn't forgive her, but she could live (or..well...die..) with that. If he lived a long and happy life, she could. But if she got captured...He'd come to her rescue and he'd be hanged a traitor.

She couldn't stomach the thought.

She fought every instinct she had and turned the broom around.

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><p><em>Why<em> would the Captain of the Gale Force run away with the Wicked Witch of the West?

Keegan had asked himself this question a million times now and he could not come up with an answer that satisfied him.

Of course, the story was that the Witch had kidnapped him, but as much as Keegan wanted to believe that, he'd seen enough to know that could not be the case.

The other popular theory was that she had put a spell on the Prince. That theory Keegan wouldn't put aside as easily. It could have happened. It could be true. Now, as far as he could tell, she hadn't done any magic, or done anything at all really, while he'd been in the room. But then, he hadn't been in the room the entire time. He didn't know what had taken place in the little time he'd been outside and the Captain and the Witch had been alone. She could have put a spell on him. One that would make him kiss her and defend her and leave with her. One that, in short, would make him... well...love her.

Could she really have put a love spell on the Captain?

Keegan supposed she could have. She was a witch, after all. Surely, she had the powers and the means to do so. He didn't really see the point of it, but he'd heard the rumors that she'd been at college with Fiyero and Miss Glinda once and maybe she'd been in love with him all that time. It could be true. Maybe she'd really been in love with Fiyero and she'd wanted him by her side. Maybe it was a ploy to get the Captain of the Gale Force _on _her side.

But...well...while that could all be true, and probably _was _true...Keegan had to allow for the possibility, could not, as much as he wanted to, deny the possibility that his superior, his Captain, the Prince of the Vinkus and the other half of Oz' most admired couple...loved the Witch. Just loved her. Without a spell.

Because that could be true too. Nobody would ever believe that, of course. Why would they? Before all this had happened, Keegan would never have believed it either. But it _had_ happened and he'd seen the Witch and...well...she hadn't looked anything like they'd said.

She didn't look like the posters either.

She wasn't old or wrinkly. She didn't have a crooked nose or warts. Her hair wasn't greasy and her face not disgusting. She hadn't even been really ugly! Not that Keegan would rush to describe her as beautiful. She was still green and, honestly, it was weird and not exactly what one would call attractive. But...she wasn't _hideous_. And she'd been …..she'd been quite kind. Despite the impatience and her harsh tones. She'd told the woman to heal him. She'd been prepared to try it herself. Keegan didn't remember everything very clearly; He'd been shot, he'd been in pain, he'd been in shock. But he remembered a clear voice, and a green face, a young face, that had looked at him and soft hands on his body that had tried to help.

That was what really confused Keegan.

Why hadn't she hurt him? The Captain had, and that didn't make sense, but aside from that...why hadn't _she_?

She was the Witch, after all, and she'd seen the gun he'd pointed at her, she must have. She'd seen his uniform and known what he was. But she hadn't done anything. Of course, she hadn't needed to because he'd been taken down by Fiyero before anyone could do anything but even then...

She'd come forward to help him, not hurt him.

He didn't understand.

He didn't understand any of it. His head hurt from confusion and lack of sleep. He wanted out of this room and breathe in clean air. He wanted steak and a beer. He wanted to find both his boss and that damned green witch and demand answers. And he couldn't do any of that.

And on top of that, Glinda the Good was on the other side of the room, staring him down.

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><p>Elphaba was in the middle of a complicated and frustrating, self deprecating thought process and she shook her head at her own stupidity for not just hurling herself into the castle (and for letting a freaking true Prince Charming into her life, who she now had to consider in decisions that had nothing to do with him, Oz dammit!) when she heard shouts coming from the streets, rifles being fired, heard the whizzing of the bullets as they were released into the air. A grunt of pure and unadulterated exasperation escaped her. No point in guessing what they were aiming for, she thought with a smirk that held no mirth.<p>

Dammit.

Why could she not have been more careful? Why did she have to be in such a rush to get back? Why did she have to fly so low to the ground?

Now, she'd have to circle the sky first, for a while, to confuse and scare those silly boys off a little bit and then, she'd have to hide in the forest, to make sure no one followed her back home.

Home...

She shook her head and told herself to not call it that. A deserted cabin did not equal a home. It was a cabin. A stupid, cold cabin. But she knew very well it wasn't the roof, the protection from wind and rain that made it home.

_Fiyero._

But she shouldn't let herself think about him that way. After what she'd learned today, he'd surely want to go back. And even if he didn't, she'd make him. It was for the better, really. They both knew that.

_She_ did, anyway.

She'd just have to explain it to him. Glinda was still there, beautiful as ever and the public would embrace him, adore him even more for being the helpless victim of the evil witch and managing to survive the ordeal.

He could tell them he escaped or something.

Maybe...

Shit!

She swerved to the right, missing a bullet just by an inch.

Damn Gale Forcers. Why did they have to bring out the rifles, every chance they got? Hadn't anyone ever told them that playing with guns got people hurt?

There were quite a few of them. No point in taking even more risks. The circling obviously wasn't throwing them off. She just needed to get away. Before she got hurt. Before...

She swerved to the right, trying to gain height and speed but she was distracted and she wasn't fast enough.

She didn't hear the rifle being fired, but she felt the bullet enter her flesh.

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><p><strong>Please click the blue button? Tell me what you think...<strong>


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16. **

**A/N I really am sorry. I have, unfortunately, started working on my dissertation and that must, in the end, come first. I will try to make it up to you by posting the next chapter Sunday at the latest, but I better not make any promises. **

**To the reviewers: THANK YOU!**

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><p>It was the first thing that had entered her mind when she'd felt that stupid, stupid, damned bullet hit her.<p>

That he was in that cabin, waiting for her. And if she didn't go back, if she died, that he would never know...where she was, what had happened, that she loved him too.

That she wanted to belong with him, even if she still didn't believe she did.

That she belonged _to_ him, though, and always would.

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><p>If the soldier boy thought he was going to win this, he was in for a surprise, Glinda thought, as she took a seat in the windowsill and stared at him. He knew things that she didn't and damned if she was going let it stay that way.<p>

What he knew wouldn't hurt her. It didn't have that power any more. She'd lost. She already knew that. But it was her own fault for staying in a game with a losing hand. She should have left the table years ago. She'd stayed. And now she had finally paid the price.

Her (officially still but not really so therefore ex-)boyfriend, ex-soon to be fiance, was now, more than likely, where he'd wanted to be for years: in the arms of her former (but not really because she'd never allow for that to change so therefore current) best friend.

She noticed with a small surge of surprise that she didn't have to fight nausea at that thought, that her head didn't hurt either and that no tears welled up. It was done. It had been over years ago, but both of them, all of them, had lacked the courage to acknowledge it. She didn't have that problem any longer. It was what it was. She'd known, she'd seen it with her own eyes all those years ago; They belonged together.

Fiyero and Elphaba.

And she could be angry about it. She supposed she had the right to be. He'd stayed with her, he'd never told her the truth about how he felt. He'd lied. So yes, she should probably be angry. Furious. But she'd felt all that anger and resentment years before, and she simply couldn't find it in her now. And she knew he hadn't meant to deceive her. He hadn't meant to hurt her. He'd simply been...lost. He'd been lost without Elphaba and as much as she had hoped, had kept hoping, that she could get him back on the right path. As much as she had hoped that one day she would be enough... She couldn't and she wouldn't be.

He'd loved her. She didn't doubt that.

He just hadn't loved her enough.

He loved Elphaba more. That hurt, but there was no anger. There was no point to it and it wouldn't be fair. Because as much as it stung, even now, that he loved Elphaba more than her, she also had to acknowledge that Elphaba loved him more than she did. She'd hoped to marry him. She'd wanted to be with him. She loved him. But not enough to risk it all. Not enough to give up everything else. So, it was easier than she'd thought. After three days of wanting to throw plates at the wall, she knew it was better this way.

So no, there was no anger.

Which was a good thing, because she couldn't exactly do anything about it. She couldn't take it out on them; They were nowhere to be found. She couldn't tell anyone about it, because nobody knew the truth and nobody was supposed to. And nothing would change.

They simply belonged together. Even after all these years. If he had searched this relentlessly for this long...If she had let him find her... if both had been willing to risk everything...Then they belonged together.

That wouldn't change. Whether they were arrested today and hanged tomorrow, or living on the run together, or even if they lived a picket-fence life somewhere with kids and a puppy.

It wouldn't change anything. It didn't matter.

And if it didn't matter, then all that mattered was that they were alive and safe.

So, here she was. In the room with the young soldier that had lied to them all. Here she was, to make sure he would keep doing just that. Except to her, of course.

She was Glinda the friggin' Good.

She would make Good.

And she would start by intimidating soldier boy here into telling her the truth.

* * *

><p>She'd managed to stay on her broom, because they'd only managed to shoot her once, and it was in the leg. So, the flying part wasn't really the issue.<p>

The issue was that she had needed to get back to the cabin but couldn't run the risk of giving anything away. She'd had to land and make her way on foot, as she always did. Which really was a bit of an issue, since the idiots had shot her in the leg. Frustration, anger and residual grief over everything she'd lost ,or had never had, at Colwen Grounds had built up inside of her and by the time she'd gotten back to the cabin (and no, it was not anything remotely close to a _home)_ it was all she could do not to shout, swear, cry and collapse. She couldn't. She was here. She'd made it.

Now, she needed to get into the bathroom. She needed to see how bad it was before Fiyero could see it. He'd probably panic and make a big fuss next time she wanted to anywhere alone. He'd never let her go without him.

The damned fool cared about her and it did no one any damned favors.

She smashed through the front door, ignored his relieved exclamation of her name and stumbled into the bathroom, locking the door behind her as well as she could.

She fumbled with the buttons of her dress but managed to unhook enough off them to wriggle the thing down to her waist, after which she let herself sink, stumble, fall to the floor.

How bad could it be, really? It hurt like hell, but she'd been hurt before. It would need healing, but she'd always healed before. This one might take longer, though. She wasn't sure. She'd never actually been shot. She'd been shot _at_ more times than she could count, but she'd never been hit. That's what she got for being so stupidly distracted! Why on earth, _why_, did she ever think it was a good idea that Fiyero come with her? Why hadn't she sent him straight back to his cushy palace?

Why?

This is what she got, dammit, for not doing what she should have done.

Oz-dammit!

Unfortunately being able to do magic didn't mean that a healing spell could cure every and all ailments. Spells demanded focus and energy and she was too drained to pull it off. Besides, she'd be unconscious for hours afterward and she had a feeling that the man on the other side of the door would not take kindly to being kept outside for hours. He'd barge in and see her unconscious and panic.

Damned fool.

Alright. She ripped the side of her slip and hissed as she gingerly touched the edges of the wound.

Time to get down to business.

She winced as she got up on her good knee to search for something she could use to get the bullet out. Then, she'd clean it and bandage it and...and...and Fiyero... was saying something. Yelling at her through the door. Or, at least, she thought he might be yelling, but she couldn't hear him very clearly. She could hear his voice, though, like a murmur in the background, as all thoughts faded and darkness took over.

* * *

><p>Where was she?<p>

Scratch that.

He knew where she was now. The more pressing question was why wasn't she coming out of the bathroom? She was hurt, he'd seen that much before she'd slammed the door in his face.

"Elphaba?"

She didn't answer. In Oz name...how could one woman be that stubborn? What was she willing to do to avoid him?

"Elphaba? Please just come out. I need to at least see you're okay."

Still no answer.

"Alright. I'm giving you one chance to show me you're okay before I remove this door."

He struggled to keep his voice light and even. Anything too dramatic would only work against him.

"Elphaba? I'm seconds away from breaking down this door, Miss Thropp. You've left me no choice, so if you don't want me to invade your bathroom privacy, open the door."

He didn't bother to give her a chance.

It didn't take much more than a push to open the door, and one glance was enough to see she'd been hurt much more than she'd let on.

She was on the floor, her dress at her feet, clad only in her slip, that she'd ripped apart at the side to reveal a wound.

A gun shot wound.

His eyes widened and for a moment he swore he could feel his heart stop.

She'd been shot. _Shot_.

He ran and slid down the floor in a ridiculous stumble, as he grabbed her wrist to check her heart-rate and turned her face towards his. She was unconscious. That was for the better, probably. He picked her up and marveled at the lack of weight.

He put her on the bed and went to work.

Being a Prince of the Arjiki, a trained hunter and a soldier in the Gale Force meant, thank Oz, that he knew if , when and how to retract bullets and dress wounds. However, he did need supplies for that. Which he had no clue where to find and he was damned if her left her alone for even a second. She didn't seem hurt anywhere else and this wound wasn't fatal, but it was enough to hurt like the blazes when she woke up and any wound needed to be cleaned to prevent infections.

She stirred, her eyes opening. She looked at him, past him really, and gazed up at him through troubled and heavy-lidded eyes.

"Fiyero..."

He tried to smile at her, but he couldn't make it convincing. He wanted to tell her a million things, but he couldn't find the words.

"Fiyero. I should..."

"What?" She didn't respond. "Elphaba! Tell me what."

But she was gone again.

He sighed. Whatever she had to say could wait. She needed to heal first. He took a breath and grabbed the scissors to cut open her slip. She might kill him for this later, but at least she'd be healthy enough to do so.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, Elphaba had gone from unconsciousness to sleep and Fiyero was exhausted. He'd done all that he was able to do, but he knew it wasn't likely to be enough. It was only in the leg, so it wouldn't kill her, but only if she would recover from it without any complications. Complications such as infections. Complications such as lack of sleep, food, medicine. And complications such as the victim of the gunshot being the absolute most stubborn person on the planet.<p>

She wouldn't listen. She never did. They couldn't go to a hospital, due to very obvious reasons and there was no way he'd go out now to find the supplies they'd need. He was not going to leave her. Even if he would have been prepared to do that, he had not one inkling of where to go.

They needed help, but he knew she wouldn't allow him to go get any. Again, not that he knew where to go.

Except for Glinda. He'd be willing to try that, he'd be willing to try anything. But that would mean getting into the palace unseen, and, again, he was not willing to leave her side. And, he kept telling himself, maybe it wouldn't be necessary. Maybe, she'd be fine. She'd rest and eat and recover and be back to her infuriating, wonderful, beautiful, vibrant self. He kept telling himself that, as he leaned his head back against the wall and felt his eyes drifting closed.

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><p>It was still dark. One would think that, after so much darkness, opening one's eyes would bring light. Clarity. Something.<p>

There was nothing. Only blackness.

_Oh._

She didn't actually have her eyes open.

Her head hurt though and her throat was dry. She was cold, too and her leg throbbed. Why was her leg throbbing? And why was she so cold?

She opened her eyes, for real this time, and tried to glance down without moving. She wasn't wearing her dress and her slip was cut nearly in half. That would explain why she was cold.

So why did her leg throb?

Oh.

Right.

That.

She'd been shot.

Stupid Gale Force.

She frowned, or tried to, but found it pulled at her hair and that made her head hurt more.

Sweet Lurline, what had happened to her? If this was what gunshot wounds did, she was definitely never getting shot again.

She rolled her head slightly to the side, and found Fiyero sprawled a chair across the room, his legs spread out in front of him, his head lolled to the side. He was sleeping, or he looked to be, but his jaws were locked and his brow was furrowed and he looked paler than she'd ever seen him. He didn't look relaxed at all. This wasn't how he usually slept. For a tiny second then, she marveled at the fact that she could now say that. Because she knew what he looked like when he slept. Because she'd been sleeping beside him every night. Her heart jumped a little, and that made her head hurt too, but this time the pain made her smile.

Oz, she _was_ home.

_Fiyero. _

"I love you."

She says the words out loud and the moment they leave her mouth, she wants to take them back. She shuts her eyes for a moment of undiluted panic and opens them again. She looks at him and his eyes are open now too, wide open, and though he'd been asleep, seemed asleep, moments before, he is definitely awake now.

He doesn't say anything though. Doesn't question her or ask her to repeat it.

"I love you too."

She smiles and looks down. It's incredible, what four little words can do.

She glances up again and he's still staring at her. It makes her want to hide. He's got so much power over her now.

_He's always had that power_, she admonishes herself. He just didn't know it.

But he wouldn't use it against her. She knows that. Even as she feels the fear and anguish over what she's done creep around her stomach, she knows that. She forces herself to take a breath, to calm down. She's unsure what to do with herself now. Now that he knows. How to proceed. What to say.

As he's always done, he saves her from her torment.

"Hungry?"

Her voice is rough and ragged as she answers.

"Yeah."

She's not. But she should eat, and it breaks the ice.

He leaves the room and returns with a bowl of fruit. She reaches out to take it from him, but he ignores her and sits down on the bed, next to her and he holds out the bowl. He's willing to give her some respite, but he's not willing to break the connection.

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><p><strong>As always; Thank you for reading and I hope you will leave a review. <strong>


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

**A/N A thank-you to the reviewers, who I love! And an extra big fat huge thank you to 3Mindy3, HC247, ChaoticSymphonyofDarkness,James Birdsong ,Vinkunwildflowerqueen and Bubble for being awesome, loyal reviewers. It means the world. And now, to make up for the long wait last time, a new chapter. The next one will be up in a couple of days. **

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><p>He knew, in the back of his head, that maybe he'd put too much into all this.<p>

Too much of himself.

Everything he had, everything he was, every bit of energy, he'd spent looking for her. Every day he'd devoted to her, no matter what obligations he'd had, no matter what he'd given and wanted to give Glinda. It had always been Elphaba, first and foremost in his thoughts. He'd fallen in love with her and that had been the end of everything else.

He'd signed up for it, voluntarily and consciously, when he'd joined the Gale Force, though. He could have walked away. It would have been hell, but he could have. He could have married Glinda. He could have had a family by now. But he'd chosen to do whatever it took. Whatever the cost, he was going to find her.

Well, he found her.

He'd found her, he had her and he intended, with just as much energy devoted to it, to keep her.

Forever.

Which was why he was going to do this.

He was going to fight her until he won. Because he was willing to do a lot of things he'd never done for her. He would almost say that, for her, he'd do anything.

But it wasn't completely true.

He would not, for example, watch as she refused to acknowledge that she was not getting better. He would not, to name another thing, let her insist that she was fine when she wasn't.

He would also not let her die.

Not that she was, at the moment. He did realize he was, perhaps, being slightly dramatic. But he wouldn't need to be, if she wasn't so damn flippant about it.

She was weak. She tried to not show it, but she winced with every move she made, her skin was a shade of green he didn't care for, pale and sweaty, she had a fever that refused to go away. And it was all because of that damn wound on her leg that wouldn't heal. It looked fine enough, but it wasn't. Maybe it was an infection. Maybe it was that her constitution hadn't been great to begin with. Whatever it was, her body wasn't fighting it off.

Of course, how would it ever be able to, if it wasn't being fed properly? If it wasn't resting? Because the woman it belonged to would not sit still, would not let herself be weak, would not let herself be taken care of.

Like right now, when she was shaking with the effort to get up, but absolutely refusing to just. Sit. Back. Down.

He made a move to help her, but she ushered him away. He bit back what he wanted to say and retreated to his spot by the door. She should have come with a manual, this woman. It was a blessed thing really, that he'd spent quite some time working without one already.

"I'll be fine, Fiyero. Stop fidgeting."

She was annoyed, of course and it was meant to come out snarly and biting, but her voice was hoarse and she struggled to sit up without wincing. He had to give credit where it was due; she really never gave up.

She hissed as she got to her feet, grabbing blindly for the wall behind her as she put the weight on the wrong leg and nearly fell back down. He shook his head but didn't move to help. There was a fine line between determination and straight obstinacy and he knew exactly on which side of that line he'd place her.

"You'd be more convincing without that grimace every time you move. You're not fine. And you won't be without help. We need to go somewhere dry and safe. Where you can eat and sleep. And you need medical attention."

She leaned back against the wall as she shot him an impatient look.

"Well, that's tough luck, because we don't have any of that and we are certainly not gonna get the latter. I can't exactly walk into the hospital."

He ignored her. He'd discovered that as much as he appreciated her stubborn nature and as much as he enjoyed the banter between them, he cared a lot less for what he considered stupid, bullheaded stubbornness. So, he ignored it.

"I wasn't really thinking about the hospital."

He'd have to tell her now. This would not be pretty. A business-like approach would be best here.

"Then what were you thinking?"

He almost didn't say it but she looked so fragile and she had to fight to stay upright, to keep her eyes open.

"We could go to the Vinkus."

_There. _

"To the Vinkus?" She seemed to have forgotten about any pain or discomfort, for the moment. There was a silver lining in every situation. Too bad there wasn't one for him.

She'd pushed herself away from the wall and now seemed torn between sitting back down, to spare her body, and wanting to stay on her feet, for the sake of this discussion. She seemed to settle for something in the middle, making her way over to the chair by the window. Her hands clutched the armrests tightly as she sat down and her eyes settled on his incredulously.

"Your plans are not getting any better, Fiyero, I have to say. What could we possibly achieve by going to the Vinkus? The heat in that area this time of year will kill us both, unless of course that is your plan, to find a quick way to go for..." her voice trailed away as his intention sunk in...he waited calmly for her protest.

"No."

There it was. _Here we go.._

"Elphie."

"Don't Elphie me."

She pushed herself up from the chair again and bit her lip as too much weight landed on her hurt leg. It pained him to see it and even more to not offer help, but he stayed where he was and leaned back against the door, feigning calmness and cool determination. She was like a wild animal sometimes (though he'd be careful not to make that comparison out loud); if you let your fear show, you lost.

"No. No. Fiyero. You can not seriously be suggesting we go to your parents."

Of course, in this case, it wasn't so unpredictable as a wild animal could be. He'd known this was coming the moment he'd decided to suggest it. Plus, she had a point.

"I admit it's not a great plan."

"Really? Then you are suggesting it why?"

It was the patronizing tone that did it. He hated it. Again, he opted to ignore it, but with slightly more trouble this time. No one tried his patience the way this woman did and, he was sure, always would.

"Because it's the best one we have."

"How? How is the best one we have? I show my face around there, or anywhere for that matter, and I'll be Southstairs faster than you can blink. That, or I'll be dead."

Ah. They'd gotten to this part, and faster than he'd thought. Good. Now, he could make his point.

And win.

"You wouldn't have to. We can fly there at nighttime. I know the castle. I can sneak us in. I'll go talk to my parents. You just need to hide till I've told them the truth. After that, we'll be fine. None of the people in the castle will go against my parents."

She rolled her eyes right on cue.

"And I'm sure your parents will just be thrilled to protect the Wicked Witch of the West from harm. Or to hear that she's hiding in their attic."

Yup. He was going to win. She always relied on contempt and a belittling tone when her arguments waned. Fortunately for the both of them, he'd prepared for this.

"Stop calling yourself that. And drop the attitude."

She bristled at that. Or would have, anyway.

"You talk to me like I'm eight years old."

He had to admit, he would have quite enjoyed the role reversal a little, if the circumstances had been different. If she hadn't been so hurt.

"Well, you're acting like you're eight years old."

"Fiyero." Her voice held a warning.

"Elphaba." So did his.

Time to bring out the big guns. No pun intended. He stepped forward, his face softer and all of his impatience and frustration gone, as she eyed him suspiciously, as if he was about to pull both his parents right out of his pocket. He came to a halt in front of her and softly, but surely, pushed her back in the chair. She gave him a look that said she knew exactly what he was doing, but he didn't mind that. Of course she knew what he was doing. She was the smartest person he'd ever met. He 'd never expected her to not see through him.

"Look. You're not well. You know you're not well. And you're not getting better. My plan make not be perfect, but it's our best option. My parents might not be thrilled about any of this, but they'll be happy to see me and they won't turn us in. I'm still their son."

"They won't turn _you_ in."

Honestly, he should be rewarded for his patience. There should be a statue.

"They won't turn _you _in, either."

"Why on earth wouldn't they? As far as they know, I am not only the Wicked Witch, but I also bewitched their son into leaving his girlfriend and coming with me."

A big statue. Huge.

"I will tell them the truth, obviously. And they won't turn you in because I love you."

She pressed her lips together in a disapproving manner.

He sank down to his knees, took her hands in his and pressed his lips to both of them. Then, he looked up and smiled that half-smile that made her stomach do cartwheels even now and she knew;

She was not going to win this.

Damn him.

* * *

><p>They landed as softly and carefully as possible in Fiyero's old bedroom two nights later, just before the sun rose. The Vinkus was devastatingly beautiful at sunrise, but he didn't even stop to think about it. She clutched the handle of the broom as if it was a lifeline and her breath came in gasps. She'd held herself up for most of the journey, but now she leaned back against him, her shoulders sagging and her cheek rested against his chest. The fact that she had let herself rely on him so heavily told him how weak she was just then.<p>

He put the broom aside and swept her up into his arms, carrying her across the room. She peeked up at him and he knew she wanted to make some sort of comment on his action, so he did it for her.

"Swept you off your feet."

He forced a grin to accompany the words because she appeared to need it and it made way for a more genuine one when she, of course, rolled her eyes. He put her on the bed, where she sat with her legs dangling over the edge, eyes focused on a point in the distance. He stepped back and looked at her. Her hair was plastered against her face. She had a fever and her body shook with it. She could barely stand up straight and her forehead was clammy with sweat. He was pretty sure the only reason she'd given in was because she knew he wasn't likely to give up and she didn't have the energy any more to fight him.

He let his fingers run through her hair and reached for her hands.

Even knowing what he would do for her, had already done for her, it shocked him to feel it crashing into him like this. Like a wave. He really loved her like he'd never loved anyone else. Or would. Ever.

He leaned forward, his hands moving up her arms, and let his lips brush hers, but only lightly.

She kissed him back.

"Fiyero."

He pulled back a little, but didn't let go of her arms.

"Hmm?"

"You keep trying to save me." She blinked, and struggled a little against his hold, but his hands kept her in place.

"If this doesn't work...thank you."

He pulled back completely at that, staring at her in wonder. This...this didn't sound like her. Was she delusional now, too? Fevers could do that. He almost hoped that was the reason, because not a single bone in his body wanted to have this conversation. So he chose not to comment at all. She probably wouldn't even remember this in a few hours. That, and he had no clue what to say. _You're welcome?_ This was as much for him as it was for her. If he were being completely honest, it was probably more for him than it was for her.

"I'll be right back. Don't move."

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><p>She watched him leave through heavy-lidded eyes. She'd known, of course, that this was a bad plan. She knew she wasn't that sick, she wasn't dying, but if she didn't get what she needed, she could be. She knew how the human body worked and being cold and underweight and wet and without any of the means to nurse someone back to health, she would be off far worse soon enough. Just look at what this flight had done to her. She could barely keep her eyes open!<p>

They'd been running out of options. He was right, she wasn't getting better at all.

And neither was he.

He needed this.

He needed...

He needed to be away from her. That was what he needed. She doubted he'd agree, but she knew it would be best for him if he left her and went back to his old life.

That was what it came down to.

She didn't want it that way. The mere idea of him going back to Glinda and his charmed life made her breath stop, but it was what would be best for him. She could not allow herself to subject him to a life like this. _Would _not allow herself.

Next time, it'd be him.

So she'd agreed to this disaster of a plan because, on the off chance that he was right, she'd get better and then she'd sit him down and be able to explain why he couldn't stay with her, why it was better that she leave. Why she couldn't bear this.

And if he was wrong, if_ she_ was right...well...then none of that would be necessary because he wouldn't have much of a choice in the matter.

It would be for the best, really. He'd be safe and she'd be dead before 24 hours passed. There were worse things to be.

He'd be safe. That was really all that mattered to her anyway. And if she were honest, she preferred that option because returning to her old life, without him, while he went back to his palace...

She shook her head, winced and moved to stand up. He'd told her not to move, but she couldn't just stay on this bed. She needed to...do...something. Just in case guards came running into the room to drag her off.

Or his parents.

She needed to be prepared...or something.

She looked around and tried to focus on the room. There wasn't much there. A bed, a dresser, a desk and a wardrobe bigger than Glinda's had been. Her cape was on the chair across the room, next to a tall mirror. So was her hat.

Her broom wasn't.

She sighed.

He'd taken her broom.

She wasn't all that shocked.

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><p><strong>Please do review. I must admit, I am hoping to pass the 100 with this chapter. Help me and I will update :) <strong>

**(Oh, alright. I will update either way, but it'd be really nice if you reviewed...)**

**(On an explaining note that I can only hope won't bore you to tears: I never intended to include Fiyero's parents, but then I realized that as much as it makes sense for them not to be mentioned in the musical, I did not have a similar excuse. I changed the story, and in this case...I don't think it makes sense for Fiyero not to stop and think about his parents. Plus; wouldn't they have people looking for their son, the Vinkun heir? I couldn't rationalize it for myself, so hence my decision to introduce the Tiggulars).**

**Till next time :)**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18. **

**A/N Yay! I passed the 100 :) **

**Yes, I am excited. Sue me :D **

**And now for the 110 :P**

**Seriously; thanks for taking the time to review. It makes it worth it.**

**I'm late again. I know! To make up for it, I will post the next chapter in two days.**

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><p>As he made his way down the staircases as quietly as he could, he tried to think of what to say. How to tell his parents what was going on, what his life was like now, why he'd done what he'd done. What he'd come for.<p>

Nothing came to mind. There wasn't a good way to tell them this. He seemed to be having that problem a lot lately.

He rounded the corner to his parent's bedroom and raised his hand. Why did big, scary moments in his life always include him knocking on doors?

He knocked again when he got no response and then, carefully, opened the door.

His mother was just reaching for a lamp and when she'd lit it and looked at him, he saw her mouth fall open in shock, right as his father reached for a robe and turned to him, disbelief plain on his face.

"Fiyero?"

His mother's voice was soft and inquiring, while his father stammered.

"How...what...how did you..."

He gave them a sheepish smile, closed the door behind him and stepped further into the room. He stopped a few feet from the end of the bed.

"Hi mom." He smiled at her in what he hoped was a reassuring way and then looked at his father,

"Dad."

"How..."

His mother was still staring at him in awe, but his father managed to utter some words, at least. It was a start.

"So I take it the news reached you then?"

From the corner of his eye, he saw his mother move in his direction, but again it was his father that spoke.

"Not till two days ago. We received word that you'd been taken hostage by the Witch."

Fiyero was glad of the business-like manner his father adopted. Ever the King; when he needed answers, he didn't waste time. It struck him that Elphaba would probably appreciate that.

"Yeah. Figures. Look, please forget all that you've heard, okay? Obviously, it's not true."

This time, it was his mother that spoke.

"Then...what...so you were never ...she didn't kidnap you?"

He grimaced. This was the part he'd worried over the most.

"Well...no...but...erm..." Oh, there was just no way to say this that wouldn't sound insane.

"I _was_ with her, though..or I _am._..That is, I found her. And I was with her. But she didn't kidnap me."

"What?"

His mother again. He couldn't blame her. He'd managed to confuse everyone even more and explain nothing. So he tried again.

"I went with her. I looked for her. Searched for her. For a long time. I was there to meet her when that idiot of a Keegan barged in, guns blaring, He followed me, apparently. I never knew. Anyway, We had to run. Or well, she had to, so I had to."

"Excuse me?"

Ah. Of course, the skepticism would come from dad. It seemed the King had left the building.

"Well, we couldn't stay there, obviously."

"So...you were never a hostage? She didn't put a spell on you? "

That was his mother. He could kiss her for at least t_rying_ to work with him, even if it meant questions he really didn't have the patience to deal with.

"No! That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Though, I should have known people would cook up something ridiculous like that. Look, Mom, Dad...she's not...,Elphaba is not who you think she is."

"Who on earth is Elphaba?"

His father had obviously had enough. Fiyero focused his attention on his mother, therefore, for the next part of his tale.

"She's...well..the Witch." He grimaced at that. "But she's not a witch. Or, she is, but not a wicked one. I'm not doing this very well. She had a point."

"Who did? What..." His father had finally regained his composure and seemed on his way to actual questions in full sentences again.

"Fiyero. What on earth is going on? If you were not kidnapped, if she did not put a spell on you, then _what_ happened? And how did you get here?"

"We just got here. We flew. I hate that broom, but it really is fast."

He didn't know who to focus on anymore. He only hoped one of them would believe him enough to give him the benefit of the doubt. To give Elphaba the benefit of the doubt.

"A broom?"

He had to wince at that.

"Yeah. Oh, yeah...that part is true too. She enchanted a broom. It flies."

He knew he was making things worse, but what he said was true and he didn't want to lie. And he couldn't spare the time to sugarcoat his way around it.

"Fiyero. An explanation. _Now_."

It flitted through Fiyero's mind that he'd never seen his father so floundered. He was King, after all. He could keep his calm through everything. Except his son showing up in the middle of the night to tell them he'd run off with the land's most feared terrorist, apparently. He took a deep breath and prepared to get this all over with.

"Right. Okay. Well...it's very simply, really; Elphaba is not wicked. She never was. She refused to help the Wizard in his plan to silence Animals and so he declared her The Wicked Witch. But she's not. She hasn't hurt anyone. She never would."

Except maybe the Wizard. Or Morrible. Or anyone that hurt anyone she cared about, but he thought it best to leave that out for now.

It wasn't enough for the King, though.

"But what does she have to do with you? Why did you look for her? I mean, I thought you were searching for her to arrest her? You only just found out she's not evil? Did she tell you that?"

Pfff. Of course they would say that. How stupid did they think he was? How stupid did _everyone_ think he was?

"What? No. I'm not that stupid, dad. I've known all along. I knew her in school...I...she was Glinda's best friend..."

His mother chose this moment to re-collect her calm demeanor and get involved again.

"Glinda? As in your girlfriend Glinda?"

He winced again.

"Yeah. About that. Erm..." This was not going as well as he'd hoped. Maybe Elphaba had been right back at Shiz and his most intelligent moments were when he said nothing.

"Glinda is not my girlfriend anymore, but yeah, that Glinda. Anyway, they were friends. Best friends. Glinda was there when the Wizard tried to get Elphaba to join him and she refused. That's how I know."

It still wasn't enough for his mother, who seemed determined now to ask every possible question she could think of.

"But if Glinda was there, then why would she hate her now?"

And linger on details.

"She doesn't. She's just playing along."

He could see his father checking out, shaking his head, so he focused on his mother again who looked back at him with a look that said she _wanted _to understand, but she didn't.

"And that's what you did? You were playing along?"

Bless her heart. She really was trying.

"Well, yes..." but he shook his head and added, "But no."

He saw his mother exchange a look with her husband. They were saying something he couldn't interpret. He took another deep breath and got to the point. He was on a time frame and he needed them to get it. To understand. They didn't have to like it. They could have all the private conversations they wanted about his mental health later but right now, he needed them to listen.

"I searched for her with the Gale Force, but it was never because I wanted to harm her, or arrest her. I just wanted to find her. And I did."

"Why?"

"I love her."

His mother looked up at him, surprised to hear those words coming out his mouth, he was sure, but his father shook his head in anger and disbelief.

"Oh Fiyero, please don't tell me you've gone and convinced yourself that..."

Fiyero shook his head too, but in denial and calm determination.

"Don't try, dad. It's the truth. And it's not the result of some spell. I've been in love with her since Shiz, It's _why_ I searched for her for three years."

Both King and Queen stared at him now and he realized how different he must seem to them now. Last they'd seen him, he was dating a bubbly blonde and leading an army in search of the Wicked Witch. Now, he was standing in their bedroom in the middle of the night, asking them to accept that he was in love with said Witch and that his whole life up to now had been a lie.

He felt sorry for them. He did. But he could apologize later.

"Anyway, we've been together since I left, but a few days ago, she left to see her sister and she was shot and...well..she needs help so we came here."

His mother, who had fetched her robe and was tying the sash around her waist, spun around at that.

"_We?_"

"Well...yes. She's upstairs." Honestly, how had they missed the 'we' in everything he said?

"She's here?"

"Yes." He took more steps in the direction of where his mother stood, stock still.

"Mom, please." A few more steps and he knew his eyes were begging her.

"Please believe me when I tell you she is not what they say she is. And she needs help."

The panic was returning full fledged, now that he was reminded of why exactly he'd come in the first place.

"I'm so sorry. Mom. Dad." He made sure to look them in the eye.

"I can't even imagine what this must sound like to you, but I assure you everything I have just told you is the truth."

"So what do you expect from us, now?"

"I need you to help her." It was a plea.. "Please. Please just help her."

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><p>Raina looked at her son and knew she would. She also knew it was probably wrong and ludicrous in every way, but while her husband had stammered through denials and rebuttals, she'd been watching her son. Closely.<p>

She'd never seen him this desperate.

She had a million questions, but they would have to wait.

It was one of those moments that only mothers experienced; The moment where what you are about to do goes against every last bit of common sense you possessed, but you will do it anyway because it's your child.

"Where is she?"

Fiyero looked at her and she could see the relief in his eyes as clear as though it was written on his face."

"My room."

She turned back towards her husband as she started for the door.

"You stay here." He heard everything she didn't say. _Don't do anything till I come back. _

She squared her shoulders and reached for the doorknob, motioning for Fiyero to follow her.

"Let's go."

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><p><strong>Review, please? It's what makes it all worthwhile. <strong>

**(I have no clue why Fiyero's mother is named Raina. It came to me as I started writing. If I stole it from you, please let me know and I will change it or give credit where it's due!)**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19.**

**A/N. It's here! On time and everything ;)**

**Thank you so much for reviewing! I hope you enjoy.**

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><p>She stood by the windowsill. Her hat covering most of her face and her cape billowing around her. Her posture defiant.<p>

She looked every inch the Wicked Witch.

She did that on purpose, he knew. He didn't know how long she'd be able to stay there like that but it wouldn't surprise him all that much if she managed to stand there for the rest of the day by sheer force of will. She wanted to prove him wrong.

He felt his mother stiffen beside him and he fought the urge to turn towards her, to beg her not to fall for it, to explain what this was about, that Elphaba needed this to regain her footing. However, if he did, she'd win. He could only win this if he kept his mouth shut.

On the other side of the room, Raina watched the younger woman draw herself up to her full height. She lifted her chin and looked the Queen straight in the eyes. Neither of them spoke, but Fiyero knew, without having to look at his mother that she would not back down. She would rise to the challenge. She was Queen, after all. She knew how to deal with people, and she knew not to show weakness in times of battle.

_He_, however, had had enough. They didn't have time for this.

"Okay. You've both made your point. Elphaba, would you at least take off the hat? You're not helping. Mom, you haven't called the guards yet, so I am going to presume you won't do so in the next few minutes. Can you please try to relax enough for me to introduce you?"

His eyes went back to the woman by the window, who had taken off her hat and her cloak and was standing, arms down her sides, dark hair whipping around her face.

Raina watched as the green woman fidgeted with her hands a little and just like that, the creature of the flashing posters was gone. In her place stood a woman in a dress that was too big on her and had clearly seen better days. She was tall, much too thin and her hair, that had been bunched up under the hat, now fell down to her waist and the wind coming in through the open window, blew it softly around a face that looked tired, unsure and weary. There was a layer of sweat on her forehead, her lips were dry. Her skin was green. It almost glittered.

Raina took it all in without a word.

Green skin.

It was a curious thing. She would not have thought it pretty under any circumstance, but with all the posters and propaganda..the wild stories and even wilder rumors...the image of the green-skinned witch had developed into a truly despicable and ugly one. So now that the woman actually stood before her...In comparison to what she had imagined the Wicked Witch to look like, being faced with the real thing was almost comical. Ridiculous.

For a moment, as she watched the wind pick up the strands of black hair and made it dance all around the green woman's thin frame, she could see why her son had gone with her. What he'd seen in her. Just for a moment.

But the moment passed and what was left was the woman that was hunted for all across the land, standing in her son's old bedroom. She didn't know anything about this woman. Only that her son cared enough to follow her and to bring her here. And that he insisted on calling it love.

What hold did this woman have on her son?

There was only one way to find out.

She took a step forward. She watched as Elphaba flinched and almost retreated. Almost. But Fiyero had made his way over to her and his hand enveloped a small green one. _He_ had a hold over _her_, too. That was obvious. It made Raina feel a little better about the whole situation.

"Elphaba. My son tells me you are in need of some help."

The young woman seemed a little shocked to be addressed with her proper name, but she rearranged her face within seconds and when she answered there was no emotion to be found, save for impatience and frustration.

"I told him, I'll be fine but..."

"You're not fine." He looked to his mother, "She's not fine. She was shot and it won't heal. She's getting worse."

A huff followed Fiyero's words.

"_She_ is right here."

Raina looked from the woman to her son. His arm was wrapped around her waist, holding her up. Protectively.

He was protective of the Wicked Witch.

She didn't laugh.

"Fiyero. Why don't you go find your father. Tell him to get Drakin out of bed. We will probably need him. And send for some soup. In the meantime. I will take a look at that wound."

They both looked at her now. Apprehension clear on both faces, but one held more caution than the other.

She bit back a sigh of impatience.

"I haven't called the guards yet, Fiyero. I doubt I will need them in the ten minutes that you'll be away. I promise you will find her as she is now. Or better."

He clasped Elphaba's hand for a moment and murmured something Raina could not make out.

"I'll be right back."

A promise to one of them, a warning to the other.

Raina took a few more steps, until she was standing right in front of the green woman.

"Why don't you lie down. It will make this easier."

She sat down on the edge of a chair. It was all she would give. Raina took it.

"Alright."

She sank down to her knees in front of the chair.

"So you were shot?"

Elphaba's eyes were trained her every move, but she answered with a calm voice.

"On my way back from Munchkinland."

"Can I see it?" She paid no heed to the mistrusting look on the young woman's face and continued the conversation.

"Fiyero said you'd gone to see your sister? She lives in Munchkinland?"

"She's the Governor."

She said nothing else but pulled her dress up to reveal her thigh. It didn't look good but Raina had seen worse. Or at least she thought so. Drakin would be able to say.

"I need to clean this a little." She didn't. She could wait for Drakin, but she wasn't ready to walk away yet. Neither of them spoke until Raina had fetched some water and returned to her spot by the chair. She felt some hesitation as she reached out to press the cloth against green skin, but she didn't show it.

"So your sister is the Governor...Nessarose Thropp?"

"Yes." She winced when the water came into contact with the wound.

"She's your older sister then?"

Small talk was meant to distract the patient, but Raina got the feeling that this particular patient would have preferred the pain.

"No. But I am the Wicked Witch, so I would have been ill-suited for the job."

Sarcasm. Raina got the feeling this woman used it often. Lovely.

"So Elphaba Thropp then."

"That's me." She winced as Raina probed the tender flesh around the wound. "Or _was_ me."

It was strange how this young woman, barely more than a girl to look at, could look at her with mistrust and skepticism shining so clearly on her face one moment, but sound so calm and indifferent the next. The older woman pulled back and looked up into huge brown eyes that gave nothing away.

Maybe she was wrong.

Who was this woman?

Honestly, Raina couldn't decide whether or not she was crazy or complicated or just tired and ill. Either way, there was no harm in her today, so she pulled the dress back down and looked back up at her again, but this time she made sure there was no hostility in her eyes.

"That would be up to you to decide, wouldn't it?"

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><p>"Well, at least we know that water does not melt her."<p>

Both men whipped around to face her as Raina entered the room where her husband and her son had been waiting, both obviously on edge.

"What?"

"Mom!"

The Queen had to stifle laughter at her son's indignant tone.

"Relax, Fiyero. She is fine. Drakin is with her."

Drakin was both the head of the household and the all-round answer to every question. At least, as far as household and nursing duties went. The man had been there since Fiyero was little. Having lost his wife when his children were young, he'd moved into the palace and Fiyero remembered his son and daughter fairly well. He was a nice man, and he knew how to take care of people, even if they didn't want it. Fiyero seriously wondered though, whether or not he'd be able to deal with Elphaba. Drakin was a good man but, as custom to men with jobs like his, he did not have patience for nonsense.

And neither did Elphaba...nor did she have patience for what she considered molly-coddling. And she would not take kindly to being considered nonsense either.

His mother must have noticed, because suddenly her hand was on his shoulder and she smiled up at him, her eyes kind and calm.

"Don't worry. I told him to be as brief as possible. He didn't like it, but well...I'm the Queen." She laughed at the last part and he felt some of his anxiety pass.

"How is she?"

"Uncomfortable. She's very...twitchy." She couldn't help the small smile as her son's brow once again furrowed in worry.

"She doesn't like to be touched." He couldn't fight the blush as she stared at him, one eyebrow raised.

"Except by me, that is...and even then sometimes..." His voice trailed off and his cheeks flamed.

The Queen could only stare at him in wonder. What had happened to her son?

Her son, the eternal charmer. The boy that had been in so many newspapers and magazines with so many different girls that she'd very seriously worried about him until he'd met Glinda. When he'd met Glinda, she'd never seen him with anyone else any more. She'd never heard about bad grades, or bad behavior. Gone were the disgraceful photo's in trashy magazines. He'd graduated from Shiz and he'd become Captain of the Gale Force.

They'd been so proud of him. He'd seemed so different. He'd changed.

But not in all aspects.

He'd brought the blonde back home a few times and both her and her husband had been taken with her. She was a lovely, sprightly girl with a knack for lively small talk, who clearly cared deeply for their son. Still, even with her Fiyero had been...not rude nor inattentive, but...slightly careless. Indifferent.

He'd seemed empty, at times. She just hadn't been able to name it until right now.

Because now, even with Elphaba not in the room, the whole of his attention was on her.

Right then, a knock sounded and a man, looking weary and sleep-deprived, entered the room.

The King stepped forward, but Fiyero cut off whatever he'd been about to say.

"Is she alright?"

He received a disapproving look at this rudeness.

"She will be. Provided she cooperate."

The purse of his lips told Fiyero all he needed to know.

"I'm sorry if she was...well...herself, really, but she's just.."

"Master Tiggular. I can assure you, I am perfectly able to deal with stubborn patients, no matter how difficult. For what it may mean to you; she was not that difficult. She didn't like having me there, that's for certain. But she did what I asked of her. Although absolutely no more than that."

The last part was murmured and the man looked at the King and Queen and that and plucked at his coat.

"Your majesties. Forgive my frankness, but I must ask...this woman...her skin..is she...she looks like..."

Raina threw a look at her son, knowing he'd get worked up over it, but he only stiffened and locked his jaws together.

"Drakin. We're aware of who she is. I ask that you trust our judgment until it has been proven faulty."

The man looked surprised as he looked at her, but he nodded.

"I have given her some medication. It will probably make her drowsy, which I think is a good thing. Her body needs to rest."

He turned to look at Fiyero, an indecipherable look on his face and left them.

Fiyero caught the door before it closed. The Kind had been silent all this time, as he had been since Fiyero's arrival, hours before, but now he stepped forward.

"Fiyero."

The Prince turned around. He knew he'd have to talk to his father about all of this. But first, before anything else, he had to go back upstairs.

"Later, dad. I'll come and find you later and I will answer any and all questions you may have. I have to go now. I promised her."

And he'd promised himself.

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><p>The Queen stood at the entrance of the library, where Fiyero and Elphaba had moved after Drakin had finished and Fiyero had left to find her. She'd wanted to follow him up the stairs, partly out of curiosity and partly because she didn't trust this woman. Her son had come home a changed man and with a woman she knew nothing about, save for rumors that didn't exactly inspire confidence. So yes, she had her qualms and she'd really wanted to follow them. She hadn't, because she knew Fiyero wouldn't appreciate it. When he'd come down to announce that he was moving her to the library because she was likely to be most comfortable there, she'd felt some relief. At least that was a room she could walk into without making excuses. She shook her head at herself. A true neurotic mother; Her son brought a girl home and she was about to bring tea into the room, just to have an excuse to spy on them. Still, in this case...but she couldn't bring herself to cross the threshold.<p>

And yet she couldn't keep her eyes off of them.

She could see them clearly from where she hovered near the doorway and what she saw had made her stop. They were on the sofa in the middle of the room. She appeared to be sleeping, her head against his chest, while he held a book with his one free hand, the other buried in her hair.

It was truly a shock.

Raina had come to the conclusion, years ago, that maybe her son just wasn't made for the family life. She'd hoped, with Glinda...they'd been together for a while, a lifetime for Fiyero, and he seemed to love her, so they'd been waiting for the day to come, for the announcement to be made. They had hoped that it would be enough.

He was successful and admired. He had a great position, a beautiful girlfriend, a life he was envied for. She hadn't seen him smile much, but she'd told herself that he was busy. He was no longer gallivanting through life so, of course, he smiled less. The zest with which he'd always done every stupid thing he'd ever done had disappeared but even though both his parents had wondered what had happened to cause such a change in the boy, they'd also been secretly relieved.

They'd figured that, eventually, family life would grow on him. He' d come to enjoy it. In time. It was all they could hope for because he didn't have a real choice in the matter; Being the eldest of the children, Fiyero would have to take the throne some day and a King needed a Queen. He was going to have to marry someone and it had looked like he'd made his choice with Glinda.

But now she realized that it hadn't really been a choice; It had been something he'd settled for. Something he'd _almost_ resigned himself to, and would have, had he not found this strange green woman now in her home, with her cape and her broom and her son's heart in her hands.

But the truth of the matter was, and she couldn't believe she hadn't seen it before, was that his heart hadn't been in it. Not in any aspect of his former life.

Now, watching her son calmly read a book, while this strange woman slept propped up against his chest, she admitted defeat.

He knew how to love. He would make an excellent husband, father and King, but not with Glinda. Or any other woman, for that matter, it seemed.

How she got there, simply from watching him stroke her hair, absentmindedly it seemed, she wasn't sure.

But the thing was...it wasn't absentmindedly. He wasn't turning pages. His eyes were trained on the face against his chest, hiding in his shirt. He stroked her hair, her neck, her back. All of his attention was on her.

He loved her.

Real love. True love. And not true love in the fairy tale kind of way, but in the genuine, rough, unglamorous kind of way that meant knowing exactly what pain it could and would bring, but not caring a single bit, because living without the other is not an option any longer. All he'd done up until now, just to be with her, was proof of that, if nothing else was.

It made her curious about the green woman. It made her want to know about her. She was loved and adored by her son, after all. And Raina wanted to know why.

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><p>I really hope you'll leave me a review. I promise it will make me update faster :)<p>

(Okay, fine. The next chapter will be up Thursday...but please don't let that stop you from reviewing!)


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20. **

**A/N I made it! Sort of :)**

**Thanks for the kind words. They make the chaotic days I'm having at the moment so much brighter :)**

**To RVRosey; I love that Reyna means Queen in your language! I didn't know that. I love it. Thanks for letting me know! **

**To those that initially didn't want this to go AU but have come back and like it anyway; I'm so happy! Thank you :)**

**To DorothyInWonderland; Thanks so much for breaking the silence and leaving me a review!**

**Alright. On with it.**

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><p>Nessa would have paced if she'd had the ability. It wasn't like her. She rolled her frail shoulders back and forth in an attempt to shake the anxiety.<p>

She shouldn't have.

She'd said too much.

She hadn't meant to betray her sister but Elphaba had such horrible timing. And she was responsible for Boq's departure. And...and...and what she'd done to Fiyero was wrong. Even so, Nessa was a good person, unlike her sister, and she had never meant to betray her.

But Morrible had showed up, claiming to wish to check on Nessa, after hearing about drama at Colwen Grounds and a possible sighting of the Witch...and Nessa...she'd been angry and hurt and it was all Elphaba's fault!

And Madame Morrible had been understanding, had assured her that the Wizard would not let Elphaba's behavior impact his ties to Munchkinland, and Nessa had admitted to her sister's visit. After that, Morrible hadn't been willing to talk about anything else. She'd kept asking, kept after Nessa to tell her what Elphaba had said. Nessa had been quick to point that there had been no contact at all until that day, not since Elphaba had fled the Emerald City. She couldn't risk losing the Wizard's support. Nessa had been terrified to be considered an accomplice to the Witch and she'd lost her patience with Madame Morrible. After all; she was nothing like Elphaba. Nothing like her. She was a good person.

"_I don't know where Elphaba is, Madame. Please, I have things to do. I need to focus on Munchkinland. I have duties. I have no time to discuss my sister's ill-timed adventures. If she wants to fancy herself involved in some sort of romance, that's her business.'_

"_Romance?"_

"_What? Oh...well...she seems to believe Fiyero loves her, or something like it. I told her it wasn't very likely, but..."_

"_You've not shared this information with Glinda?"_

"_Glinda can have any man she wants. Why should I help her? And what good would it do? It won't bring back Fiyero, will it? For whatever reason, he is with Elphaba right now. As far as I can guess, anyway. Madame. I do apologize, but I have no patience for this topic."_

"_Oh, you've told me quite enough, Miss Thropp. I thank you."_

Now, she regretted it slightly. She still didn't approve of her sister's behavior. But they were sisters still and Elphaba had taken care of her, long ago, when she'd had no one else. She didn't mean her sister harm but she couldn't find it in herself to truly care either. Maybe that made her a terrible sister but surely, she was not the abnormal one? She could not be, because Elphaba...well...Nessa shook her head and gathered her thoughts. She took her place at her desk and focused on the paperwork in front of her.

She hoped for the best for Elphaba. But that was all she would do.

* * *

><p>It was time.<p>

Fiyero knew he wouldn't be able to avoid it much longer anyway and these days he favoured the head-on approach over the ostrich approach.

He owed his father answers and it was time he gave them. His parents had been surprisingly tolerant of the whole situation so far. Much more than he'd ever have expected. Or had the right to expect. He knew, however, that it was mostly his mother's doing. No matter how curious she was, how opinionated; she'd kept her mouth shut. He'd seen her walking around, unsure of how to deal with the situation and trying to get glimpses of Elphaba, of him, of the two of them. But at least she'd tried. She was still trying.

Fiyero knew why. It was because his mother was a mother first and a Queen second. Always. She was a good Queen; she knew her priorities, she worked hard and she wouldn't let her family life distract her from her duties. But she didn't let her duties distract her from her family life either.

She was always a mother. He remembered when he'd brought Glinda home the first time. He'd been up late, as he always was, pacing the kitchen and thinking that if Drakin found him there, he'd get a telling off, despite being an adult now. His mother had known, the way he supposed mothers do, and she'd asked him if he was happy. He'd said what he always did. _You know me, I'm always happy._ She hadn't asked beyond that point, but she'd seen through the lie. She was always a mother first.

His father, on the other hand, was a good man and a more than decent father. But he was the King, first and foremost. Fiyero didn't blame him. It was how his father had been brought up and Fiyero knew that if he'd done what was expected of him, he'd have ended up the same way.

The problem was that now he owed his father answers, but he owed the King answers too, and that was far more troublesome.

* * *

><p>"So?"<p>

Her eyes were clear as summer skies, but the look it held was less pleasant. Keegan looked at his feet awkwardly. He knew full well that if she hadn't been so unbelievably beautiful, he'd have found his nerve a lot quicker and lost his patience a lot sooner. As it was, however, Glinda the Good stood in his room, back to demand answers he still hadn't given her.

Avoidance only went so far when you weren't allowed to leave the damn room.

He looked back up at her and she waved her hand in an impatient little gesture.

He feigned ignorance.

"So...what?"

She sighed deeply. An impatient sigh. A womanly sigh. A sigh women saved exclusively for tiresome men that refused to understand them. Keegan had sisters. He knew that sigh.

"So, what happened? And don't give me that 'I don't remember' crap because we both know you're lying out of your...well..." She trailed off then and he was amused for a moment, that she'd be so blunt, so candid, with him but she would not finish that sentence. The moment didn't last long, however.

"I..."

"It takes one to know one, Mr Keegan. And I _know_ you're lying."

"Keegan is my first name."

She merely raised her eyebrows. He probably shouldn't have said that.

"And what might be your last name then?"

He hurried to correct himself.

"I meant...you could just call me Keegan..."

Who ever thought that Glinda the Good was harmless had clearly never seen this face. He nodded in acquiescence.

"Mr. Keegan it is."

A short and firm little nod made her curls bounce.

"Glad to hear it. Now, Mr Keegan. I would like the truth." She frowned for a second and then, as if she'd only just remembered, added:

"And why you're lying about it."

"I don't know exactly what happened."

"Oh, for heaven's sake. I told you not to lie to me."

She patted her dress and when she seemed satisfied she looked at him and sat on the edge of his bed.

"Let me help you get started; He left with her, didn't he?"

His head shot up.

She nodded again. A nod that said he'd just confirmed what she'd said.

"Wh...what?" He was stammering like a twelve year old in front of the class.

"Well, didn't he? I assume so because he came to say goodbye to me the evening he left and I know Elphie wouldn't hurt him."

She put her small hands on the mattress and pushed herself off.

"That, and he spent years pining for her, so really...it's the only thing that makes sense."

Keegan wasn't sure how to respond. What was she talking about? How did _any_ of this make sense?

"What?"

"Oh, in the name of Lurline! Are all you soldier boys this slow?"

Keegan felt his ears turn red. It was always what gave him away and he hoped with all he had that she wouldn't notice. It didn't look like he had much to worry about.

She wasn't paying attention to him at all. She was staring out the window. A small lady in a poofy dress with a wand in her hand like a weapon. Suddenly, she spun back around.

"I am going to tell you what I think happened, okay? Which is that he found her, and he left with her, no spell required."

"He...I..."

"Is that what happened?"

"I don't know! I'm trying to tell you I don't know!"

He was getting annoyed now, Glinda the Good or not. Everybody kept asking him questions he couldn't answer. He was sick of this room, these people, these questions. This was not what he'd signed up for.

"All I did was follow him. I saw him going in the direction of that fortune teller's place and I figured that maybe he'd need help. I thought he was going to question her or arrest her or something. I don't know. I was waiting outside but I couldn't hear anything or see anything, so I look through the keyhole..next thing I know...he's...she's..."

He couldn't finish that sentence. He didn't want to say the words out loud, even if she seemed to know already.

"She was there. Only...she wasn't...like...like in the pictures. She wasn't at all what they told us. But she was the Witch so I pulled my rifle and I was going to shoot her.."

"You were going to shoot Elphie?" Her eyes widened in horror and her voice was shrill.

_What?_ Why was she so upset?

"What?"

He'd never been eloquent. But she'd composed herself already and did that little wave again.

"Never mind. You go on."

Keegan shook his head, but did as he was told.

"Well, I don't know. He called her name and she looked at him and it was like...she seemed scared or something. And then he shot me."

If he'd expected the same sort of reaction to his being shot, he was disappointed. She only nodded as she processed the information.

"To stop you from shooting her."

Her voice was so understanding. He couldn't grasp it.

"But _why?_"

He forgot the rules then, forgot all propriety. He crossed the room until he was in Glinda's face. Then, reaching out to grab her arms, he seemed to remember who he was and whom he was with and pulled back. He turned around and smacked a vase of the bedside table instead.

"Now, Mr. Keegan. Is that really necessary?"

He whirled back around.

"Why? Why did he save her? Why would he leave with her? _Why?_"

He looked at her then and the anger and desperation screamed at her.

"We were trained to find her, to kill her. We were told she was evil. I don't...Why would he do what he did? I've been asking myself these questions for days. I've been telling myself that it must have been a spell. It must have been because Captain Tiggular would never betray us all like that. He wouldn't because he's a good captain and he was devoted to his job. So she must have done something to him. Something to make him go with her. To make him walk away. To make him leave here, leave _you_."

His breath ran out then and he deflated, but he had one more thing to say, to confess.

"But I can't convince myself."

She sighed. Genuine sympathy on her face for the first time.

"Oh, Mr. Keegan. The answer is not so difficult, really. No need to over-think it." She gave him a small smile, but it didn't fully reach her eyes.

"It's love."

"But..."

"He's been in love with her for years, you see."

No. He didn't see. It was making less sense than before, if that was possible.

"But...but...you and him..."

"Yes, well...I'm afraid I tend to close my eyes to what I don't want to see sometimes."

Keegan tried to come to terms with all she was saying. Tried to grasp that what she was telling him was, undoubtedly, the truth.

"So...you knew?"

"Of course I know. I've known since Shiz. I think I knew before they did."

"Shiz?"

"We were all friends then as I am sure you've heard. Fiyero and I were dating but he and Elphie...I suppose it was always stronger between the two of them, in a way."

"Elphie?" He'd made the link before but realized it only now.

"Elphaba."

Glinda nodded in confirmation.

"We were room mates. She was..." She shook her head, a little angrily, as if annoyed with her own confusion and continued:

"is.._.is_ my best friend."

"Even after.."

"Even after."

He'd never understand women.

"That's enough out of me for a while, don't you think? It's time for you to talk now."

Keegan wasn't sure what to say, but she'd foreseen that.

"Why did you lie? You could have told everyone the truth. Fiyero committed treason."

It was all true.

"I don't know." At her frown, he added: "I know you're tired of hearing that but it's the truth. I don't know why I didn't say anything. I still might. I probably should."

"But?"

"But...I liked the Captain. And she...she seemed...she didn't...she tried to help me."

He almost whispered that last part and it was followed by awkward laughter.

"What kind of Wicked Witch would try to help someone that wanted to shoot her?"

Glinda didn't say anything, but her face told him she wasn't surprised.

"It just didn't seem right. Do you think I should tell the truth?"

The look she gave him told him he should regret that question.

"No! No, of course not. We need to help them!"

* * *

><p>It wasn't going particularly well.<p>

His father wasn't a patient man and, as a King, he knew the worth of keeping feelings separated from business. He believed in taking all emotion out of the equation and only letting it back in when the mind alone didn't suffice. It had been one of the first things he'd thought his son about the life of a King. Back then, Fiyero had been too busy dancing to realize what that meant. He'd been too busy dancing to have many feelings at all.

So far, he'd explained everything all over again, his whole life, from Shiz to the Gale Force, to his relationship with Glinda (why did everyone consider him engaged? He hadn't even proposed!), to his decision to run off with Elphaba ( and why did people insist on calling it that? As if it had only been a spur of the moment-thing. As if it didn't mean anything. Why was Glinda the serious one and Elphaba the other woman? Didn't they realize it had always been the other way around?)

In short; the King was quickly losing his last shreds of patience and his son had already lost his. Fiyero couldn't help a snort at the image they made. Prince and King. Father and son. Fiyero and Liir. Eye to eye. If only the people of the Vinkus could see them now.

"Fiyero, You understand I am not asking you these questions because I wish to make your life harder..."

Fiyero gathered whatever calmness he could find within him and focused on the end of this conversation, when he could escape this room and look for food. And a drink. And Elphaba.

"I know, dad. It's fine. Ask me."

At his father's silence, he continued.

"Ask me what my intentions are. What I plan to do with my life now that I'm a fugitive. What I intend to do about the throne. I know that's what this is about."

"But you're not a fugitive. Everyone still thinks you're a hostage of the witch."

_Of course. _

He promised himself a big drink and managed to speak without raising his voice.

"Right. I have to admit that I prepared for that question before we came here but I wasn't expecting to hear it now. I thought I made it clear that I am not a hostage. I think everything so far and all I've told you makes it very clear that I am not, and never was, a hostage."

The look on his father's face told him that he was not the only one envisioning a drink.

"Yes, Fiyero. I realise very well that you were not, in fact, taken hostage by the witch. My point is; the public still believes it to be true. You have the option of using that."

Oh.

This wasn't good.

Fiyero kept his jaws clenched as he spoke and he knew that he was about to enter into a conversation he'd never wanted to have. With his dad, or the King.

"Using that to achieve what exactly?"

"Oh, Fiyero, don't be a child. You know exactly what I mean."

"I do. I am trying to ignore it and give you the opportunity to come up with something else. Something that would make me not angry."

"Mind your tone, son. I am not only your father. I am King too."

Yup. Here it went.

"Yes, well. Seeing as how your words were spoken, I hope, as a father, not as a King, I will reply as your son. I will not, I'll repeat it to make sure you hear it, I will not turn her in. I will not leave her. I will not let her leave and I will make sure that no one else does either.

"Fiyero. That woman...what good has she done you?"

"Dad! I love that woman. She has a name, by the way. I love her. Elphaba is...she is...dad, she's all I want."

"Fiyero, please. How can you possibly know that it's love? You've been together, what, a week? You were with Glinda for four years and it still didn't stop you from running off with another woman first chance you got."

Running off? The press would have a field day.

"I didn't 'run off with another woman'. I left with Elphaba, after having searched for her for three years. _Three years,_ dad. Do you have any idea how long that is? Three years I spent telling myself that one day I'd find her. Three years of hoping against hope that someday...someday I'd get my wish. Three years."

He was tired again. All he did was fight these days. Plead. Beg for the people he loved to believe him. To listen.

"Three years is a long time, dad. So don't tell me that I can't be sure. Don't tell me I don't know what love is. Just because you don't agree with my choices doesn't make me a child."

"And your duties? You have a people to lead. A throne waiting for you."

"I know."

"How did you plan on solving that?"

At least he wasn't questioning his feelings for or his relationship with Elphaba anymore. And this was a fair question and one he'd been expecting.

"Well...I haven't thought that far. Honestly; I've always known I would have to be King one day and though I've never exactly jumped through hoops about it, I'd gladly do it. I would. I love the Vinkus, dad. I do."

His genuine tone made Liir believe him and he felt himself cool down a little. He knew this was hard on his son, but he also knew this was greater than that.

"And how exactly do you see yourself becoming King in this current situation?"

Fiyero had been expecting that one too, but that didn't mean he had an answer.

"I don't know." He admitted. "I said I _would _gladly do it. I didn't say I will. I can only do it if Elphaba's name were cleared and she'd be willing to become Queen. I haven't talked to her about it yet. I figured that'd be a conversation for after we're married. Like our tenth anniversary."

The last part he added with a slight smirk. He could already see Elphaba's face when he brought up her being Queen of the Vinkus. Or marriage.

"Married? Queen? Son, this woman can not be Queen of the Vinkus!"

Oh damn. Why did they have to go back to this? He'd been so close to that drink. And he wanted pancakes.

"And why is that?"

He dared his father to say it. Liir knew it and willingly took the bait.

"Well, she's...Son! She's still, as far as the people know, the Wicked Witch of the West."

"And if she wasn't?"

"What do you mean?"

"If her name was cleared. Or if I'd just brought her home, a normal woman. No witch business."

"Normal?"

Fiyero shook his head.

"So you're telling me she couldn't become Queen because of her skin?"

"Look, Fiyero..."

"That _is_ what you're saying."

Liir paused. He knew exactly what his son was doing. He supposed it was only fair. The boy had always been smarter that he let on. It was just highly unfortunate that he chose to show it _now_.

"No. That is not what I am saying."

The older man took a breath and gave in. Fiyero was his son, after all. Whether he'd be King or not, he would always be his son. He deserved a chance to prove his father wrong. All sons did.

"I agree with you that that would be...well...it_ is_ unjust. You're right. Your mother has also informed that although peculiar, the girl doesn't seem to be of any particular evil kind. I have always striven not to be a prejudiced fool and so far that has served me reasonably well. So, you are right in your anger here. I will try to, at least, get to know her better before I judge her. And before I judge _you_."

Fiyero nodded, relief easing his stomach.

"But...Yes, Fiyero, _but_...even if her name was cleared...it'd be a challenge to introduce her as the new Queen. And for now, there is no such silver lining in sight. We must assume the worst. If you can not clear her name.."

The Prince didn't want to say what he was about to, knowing it would hurt his father and make their relationship more strenuous, but he also knew he needed to be honest:

"Then I guess you better call your daughters. Because I won't be King."

"Fiyero."

"Dad. I'm sorry. I truly am. But I won't do it without her. I spent too long without her. I won't do it again."

He saw his father deflate, accepting, for now, his determination.

"What is it about this girl?"

Fiyero shrugged. It was a difficult question to answer.

"You said you'd try to get to know her. If you do, hopefully you'll see."

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you so much for reading! This was quite difficult, I must admit. I missed Elphaba :P<strong>

**In additional news; I leave tomorrow on a trip that will leave me with very limited internet access. I promise to try and update whenever I can! Just so you don't go thinking I abandoned it or anything. **

**Of course, I might be persuaded to post a chapter before I leave tomorrow...yes, you are correct. This is a shameless bribe...review? **

**Oh, and I am aware that I am the gazillionth person to name Fiyero's dad, or any other male family member, Liir but I love the name, it suits a King and I love that he is King Liir :)**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21 **

**A/N Here is the last one before I leave. Hopefully, I'll be able to post soon. I hope you all still like where I'm going.**

**Thank you for reading and even more for reviewing!**

* * *

><p>Liir had promised his son he'd make an effort. He had promised he'd try to get to know his apparent future daughter-in-law. He wondered if she knew anything about all of Fiyero's plans because the way he'd phrased some of his answers made the King think she did not. That little notion interested him. Any girlfriend of Fiyero he'd ever met was interested in more than just his son. They were interested in his parents, his castle, his country. His money, his lifestyle, his power. A marriage to a future king appealed to them. Even Glinda, though lovely, was no exception. She had cared for the Prince, Liir had no doubt, but she'd also cared for the picture. The image.<p>

That wasn't criticism, as far as Liir was concerned. He was a King after all, and as such he himself was always concerned with the picture, the image. He understood nothing better than the need to create, maintain and protect one. His wife respected but didn't share that need. His son, as it turned out, really didn't care about it. Up until a few days ago, Liir had been nearly convinced that Fiyero was, finally, starting to see and care about his future as a ruler. Now, he was forced to accept that it had all been fake. An image. A good one, a convincing one, but not one Fiyero was interesting in holding onto.

It made the King, in a strange way, proud.

It also angered him. And it made him reluctant to meet the woman who was the cause of it all.

His wife, however, wanted nothing more.

"Don't you see that it's the only way of understanding our son?"

Raina was used to having to placate her husband. He had a temper and no patience and in matters such as this, he needed his hand held. Not that she'd every phrase it that way around him. It would take just a little bit of time, though.

"That may very well be true, but it does not change the fact that I'm not looking forward to it."

She stepped forward and touched his arm.

"Darling. Really. I must admit it's...well...I understand your reluctance. But I want to know what happened and, honestly, she did not seem that bad. The skin is..well...strange. But aside from that...what do we really know about her?"

His face showed incredulity as he turned to her.

"That she's Wicked Witch of the West! Or was, anyway. No, she still is! The only thing that's changed is that she lives in my library now!"

Raina chuckled at that and Liir could see, as always when she did that, how much Fiyero took after his mother.

"Darling. Really. I don't believe that. As I've said; She's a little peculiar, but I don't think there's any more evil in her than there is in you or me."

He was serious though, even if his wife wasn't.

"How do you know that? You've spoken to her once!"

"Precisely. That's what I want to change. And I will. If our son would ever let anyone near her, that is."

The King shook his head at that, disapproval radiating off him.

"He is ridiculously protective of that woman."

Raina just nodded.

"That's exactly what makes me so curious."

Liir looked at his wife and grumbled.

"Fine. You go first."

"It's not a dare, dearest."

"I'm making it one. You first. I'll get Fiyero out of that room."

"Alright. Though I think you're greatly overreacting to this girl."

"We'll see. Shall we do it now?"

Raina fought hard to suppress laughter.

"Yes, by all means. We must not waste any time."

Her husband glared at her as he moved towards the door.

"Yes, you think it's funny now. Just wait till we have to explain to our eldest daughter that she'll have to be Queen because her brother abdicated to live in hiding with the Wicked Witch of the West."

Even Liir couldn't stop a smirk as he heard his own words.

"Wait till we have to do the press conference."

They both laughed at that because there was no other option, but sobered too quickly. Absurd as it was, it was real and it made their lives infinitely more complicated.

* * *

><p>She found her in the library.<p>

She seemed small, curled up on the spacious sofa. She was wearing a long black dress with little buttons, her hair was in a braid and a pair of glasses was perched on her nose.

A slip of a girl.

It was difficult to see this thin and quiet woman and accept she was both the infamous witch and the woman her son wanted to marry.

She did not seem suited for either.

Not for the role of the Wicked Witch that all Ozians feared, because she'd been with them for a few days now and not once had she made herself heard. She didn't talk to anybody but Fiyero, but she even seemed to leave him alone. _He_ always went to find _her_.

She didn't complain, though Raina could see how uncomfortable all the attention made her and she didn't seem to do anything other than read. Fiyero brought her food and spent most of his time in that same room with her. She didn't act like a dangerous terrorist, who would kill without hesitation, nor did she look like one, but Raina supposed she wouldn't be able to say what a terrorist did look like.

She _could _say without a moment's hesitation that she didn't look like the woman her son would marry either. Not even taking into account her strange green skin; In her black cotton dress and inelegant boots, her hair in a braid or tied back into a knot and small glasses that still looked big on her thin face, she didn't look like the type of woman her son would ever fall for. She was obviously clever and presumably powerful but she was also quiet and withdrawn. She spoke in a clear voice but more often than not it was laced with sarcasm. There was nothing light-hearted or joyful about her. She was surly, intense and introverted. And though she seemed to definitely care for Fiyero, even around him she was guarded and careful.

She hadn't spoken to the young woman all that much but she'd been witness to some moments the two of them spent together and Raina had wondered what it had been about this girl that had made her son fall so deeply in love.

Because neither she nor her husband could deny any longer that their son was, irrefutably, in love with the green girl. Everything in his demeanor pointed it out. Even the way he said her name in frustration and annoyance held love and affection. And it wasn't just that he loved her; he was loyal, fiercely protective and fully committed.

How on earth had that happened? Who was this man that looked like her son and when had he become like this? Raina wanted to know. She wanted to understand.

So here she was, ready for a confrontation. She decided to not beat around the bush. She didn't know much about the green woman, but she didn't seem like the type that liked things sugar-coated.

"So, Elphaba." She took a seat at the other end of the sofa.

"I think it is time you told me what happened."

The younger woman looked up from her book, but didn't seem very surprised at her presence. Though, Raina reminded herself, living as a fugitive probably fine-tuned many skills.

"I was shot. Your son insisted we come here."

There was that peculiar tone of voice again. Curious, distrustful, daring and slightly patronizing all at the same time.

Raina decided to bring out equal weaponry. It was only fair.

"Yes. And seeing as how you are the Wicked Witch of the West, I can see how you came to be shot. My question is how did you become the Wicked Witch?"

If the Queen's tone surprised Elphaba, she didn't show it. She put her book down on her lap and took her glasses off.

"It's a long story. Or, maybe not that long, but a complicated one, and not one that is likely to be believed."

She was clearly unwilling to have this conversation. As she seemed unwilling to have any sort of conversation at all, with anyone.

That was too bad, really, for Raina did not intend to let it go.

"Well, you're still here, aren't you? We haven't turned you in, or alerted anyone to your presence. Now, this is mainly because Fiyero is adamant that he loves you and although I believe him, I can't say I understand how that came to be. So, I would like to hear your story, and seeing as how I am expected to accept the Wicked Witch of the West as my daughter-in-law, I think I have the right to hear it."

This time, there was surprise clear on her face. Elphaba knew it showed.

"I suppose."

She squirmed in her seat a little, moving her leg slightly. She was uncomfortable here, in this palace, with these people, even if she felt better physically. She'd hid in the King's private library for the most part. It was a room people were not allowed to enter without permission from the King and since she was currently hiding in it, nobody was being granted that permission. So she was healing, eating proper food and she was surrounded by books she could only ever have dreamed of. It could have been much worse.

She was going mad.

She just wasn't made for this, and she'd realized too late that, in bringing her here, Fiyero had outsmarted her. She couldn't just up and leave. Too many people would notice. There were guards all around and Fiyero was with her all the time. His parents hovered and that damn Drakin person kept insisting on checking up on her.

She was tired of being cooped up here, but she was also aware of the fact that for the first time in years, her body felt something akin to healthy. Drakin had told her, in a sparse moment of quiet sympathy for her restlessness, that she'd neglected her body for too long and that, if she were really as powerful and smart as they said, she'd take this opportunity to give it what it needed. She'd told him that her body had worked just fine all these years, thank you, and that he should feel free to mind his own business. He'd frowned at her and told her that while she was here, she might read up on etiquette.

And now, the Queen had obviously decided it was time to talk and it was the damnedest thing that she respected the woman too much to refuse. Fiyero's mother was...well...like Fiyero; She didn't try to be subtle. She didn't try to flatter her, and she wasn't in the least bit afraid. If the circumstances had been different, if her life had been more normal...if she had been more normal and she'd been brought here as a friend of Fiyero...

"I have...powers." She looked up from whatever on her dress had been interesting. She appeared so calm, but looks could be deceiving and Raina could see her hands twitch.

"I've always had them, but it wasn't until I got to Shiz that I realized what it was and what I could do. Morrible told me I could become somebody great. That I would be making good. She lured me in with the promise of meeting the wizard. I did. Unfortunately, it turned out there was nothing wonderful about him."

She spoke the words without much emotion but the bitterness came through in that final sentence. Before the older woman could say anything, though, she'd moved on.

"I have opinions. I express them too often and too loud, or so my father would tell me, so when I found out the Wizard was behind the Animal bans, I took the Grimmerie and ran. He didn't like it, because next thing I knew, I was The Wicked Witch and hunted by the Gale Force. I went into hiding and stayed that way. Fiyero found me and he came with me." She paused for a second, then added: "Voluntarily."

Raina nearly smiled at that. She didn't doubt that part. Although she could see now that the green woman expected her to.

"I see."

"You don't have to believe me."

There was belligerence in her voice now. It made her more human, somehow. More vulnerable. She pretended very hard not to care what other people thought, but she did.

"Who says I don't?"

She didn't even blink.

"Why would you?"

"Fiyero does."

She hit a tender spot there, because Elphaba dropped her gaze and plucked at her dress. Raina was glad to see it.

"Yes. Well...Fiyero...Fiyero doesn't know what's good for him."

"I used to think that."

Elphaba looked back up.

"That changed?"

It was a genuine question.

"When he started doing better at school, graduated, joined the Gale Force. I always figured it must have been Glinda's influence. Now I know better. What I still don't know is _how_ that happened?"

The girl's brow furrowed, truly puzzled.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that last I heard, he was getting ready to marry Glinda."

At the blonde's name, the gaze dropped again, but for a different reason and her voice lacked power in her next sentence.

"Last I heard he was too."

She looked back up but her gaze was haunted by guilt.

"Now, he is telling me that it was you he loved all along. How did that happen?"

"I think you're better off asking Fiyero. _He'_s the one that found _me_."

She was drawing back into her shell again. Perhaps she should not have mentioned Glinda.

"Yes, but you're together now. I assume that means you felt for him what he claims to have felt for you all this time."

She blushed at that and the Queen was surprised to see it. She seemed incredibly young all of a sudden.

"We'll try it this way: how did you two meet? I understand you were at Shiz together, which I suppose explains his desire to stay there and the subsequent rise of his grades."

"His carriage ran me over."

Raina did a double-take.

"I beg your pardon?"

"His carriage. He was sleeping in the back. I was walking down the road, reading. He ran me over."

Of course. The Queen shook her head. _Of course_.

"I can't say I'm shocked. So how did you go to friendship from that?"

"Well, I was room mates with Glinda, and he was her boyfriend, so we became friends by default, I suppose. Or...well...we were forced to tolerate each other."

"You were Glinda's room mate? I never knew...though I suppose that makes sense now. So how did you go from mere tolerance to where you are now?"

"Honestly. You should ask Fiyero."

"But I am asking you_._"

"But I don't know how he..."

The girl just didn't get it. It was almost as if she didn't know how to have a conversation.

"How did _you_?"

Elphaba sighed. In desperation and annoyance and shame. She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to have this conversation with Fiyero's mother, but she knew this was all part of the test. The woman was testing her, and she was right to do so. It wasn't about her as an enemy of Oz any longer. It was about her relationship with Fiyero. This was about her intentions.

Oz, she'd never thought she'd ever have to deal with in-laws.

_Alright._ Like a band-aid.

"He stole a Lion cub."

"What?"

"They came to class one day. Life Sciences. They dragged off our professor, a Goat. A brilliant one. They brought in a cage. It had a Lion cub in it and they had this speech about how cages would become more of an occurrence and how the world would benefit because Animals would never learn how to speak."

She shook her head again, in denial, at the memory. The old anger not yet faded and flaring up.

"I was...I got angry. I did something to the class..."

"With your magic?"

"Yes. Nothing too harmful, but nothing good either. I've always had trouble controlling my emotions. Before I knew it, Fiyero had taken the cub and told me to follow him."

Again, she felt the wonder she'd felt back then at his action.

"It was the first time anyone had done something like that for me."

"Stolen a Lion Cub?"

"Helped me."

Raina was quiet at that. It was a painful admission to make, for sure, but not any less painful to hear. Elphaba didn't seem to notice her hesitation. Or her sympathy.

"Anyway. We set it free and he went back to his life. Or at least, I thought he did. But..."

The older woman kept quiet, waiting for the younger one to gather the courage to say what she was going to say. Elphaba took a deep breath and looked the Queen straight in the eye.

"Everything changed. For me. I...I just wasn't the same."

Elphaba knew she'd said too much. Never before had she shared that much of herself. Not until Fiyero.

She was uncomfortable now, even more so than before. She could feel the sharp edges of panic seeping into her.

As always it seemed, she was saved by Fiyero. Accidentally on purpose, he'd overheard the last bit on his way in and, not really all that surprised to find his mother in the library, he'd waited to enter till the conversation seemed at an end. He came walking into the room, carrying medicine and lunch. Knowing Elphaba would need it, he made light of the situation.

"I was never the same either, you know. Turned completely upside down and inside out. With one touch."

The green woman rolled her eyes.

"Sure you were."

"I was!"

Only a snort from the girl, as the Prince made his way over to the sofa, moved her feet up and sat down next to her, putting her legs back down over his, as he reached for a plate and handed it to her.

"Brain food."

"Then why are _you_ eating?"

Raina couldn't make herself move. She needed to see this. This banter, this obviously much rehearsed dialogue.

"You're funny too. I didn't know that."

He handed her a small cup with medicine first, and held a mug in the other. She reached for the mug, but he held it higher, just out of her reach.

"Take that and I'll reward you with this coffee."

She pouted at that. She actually pouted. It made her seem so human.

"You don't play fair, Tiggular."

There was more lightness in her now than she'd displayed so far. Or maybe Raina hadn't been looking.

"It's my only chance of winning. Now, be a good girl."

A snort again.

"And don't try to be funny again, now. The only thing it'll get you is cold coffee."

Raina watched as the girl gave in and took the medicine. Fiyero handed her her coffee, but only after making her reach for it a few times. He grinned and made to hand it to her, but as she leaned forward to take it from him, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. She blushed furiously and pulled back as she threw a glance at Raina still sitting there.

The latter took this as her cue and got up.

"I'll leave you two alone, shall I?"

At the door, she turned back and looked at the girl on the sofa, who had her legs draped over Fiyero's lap and was still blushing, even as the Prince smiled and brushed her hair back behind her ear.

"Elphaba."

The girl looked up, a questioning and hesitant look in her eyes.

"It was nice talking to you."

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><p><strong>Thank you so much for reading! It's hard to believe that people are taking time out of their lives to read my drabbles. (though I do hope you'll take some more time to review :))<strong>


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22. **

**A/N An update! I'm going on safari for the next two weeks, so I won't be able to post. I hope, therefore, that those that are still following this story, will be appeased with this chapter :)**

**As always; thank you so much for reviewing! I promise I WILL respond to them as soon as I am back in civilization.**

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><p>"You promised."<p>

"It was a moment of weakness."

"A promise is meant to be kept, husband."

"Not if they don't make sense."

"And this one doesn't?"

"It did when I thought I would be proven right."

Raina stared at her husband from across the room, her face incredulous. This was a King, a father, a husband. In short; a grown man. An adult.

"I swear, sometimes you're worse than Fiyero."

"I resent that, seeing as how he's the one that got us into this mess."

He stood behind his desk, too restless to sit down, but he felt better at his desk, more in power.

"If he's the one to blame, then why are you so adamant in refusing to talk to _her_?"

"I blame her too! In what world does a man wake up to find that his son has eloped with a terrorist?"

"They did not elope! They're not married yet."

She hesitated.

"Wait. Are they?"

The King shook his head wearily.

"No. At least I don't think so. He's mentioned something about a marriage in the future."

"Are you sure?"

"Quite. I remember distinctly my son telling me he would abdicate the throne if her name couldn't be cleared or if she didn't want to be Queen of the Vinkus."

"I suppose we should have seen that coming."

"Should we have?"

"Well, I can't say I'm surprised. Something in the boy changed, Liir. You see that too. It's hard to miss. And whether we like it or not, she's the one that caused that change."

"My point exactly. That's why I don't like her."

"That's not her fault! And besides, it's not a bad thing."

"It's not a bad thing? Did I not mention that he wants to abdicate? For her?"

She sighed deeply. Sometimes she simply could not understand that she'd managed to be married to this man without trying to kill him in his sleep.

"Oh, Liir. Fiyero was never that eager for the throne. This has just made him even less so. And you said that he would do it, if she would."

"So the future of my people is in the hands of a green witch? That's comforting. I can't wait to tell them that."

His voice had the petulant tone it had when he didn't get his way.

Men.

"Stop it. You're acting like a child. It's not her fault. Fiyero loves her. That's her part in all this. I don't believe she's forced him into any of this."

"You can't know that."

"I can. And so can you. Fiyero could never be forced into anything. We have to face it, darling. He loves the girl."

"I have trouble understanding why you are so accepting of all this."

"It's because I don't like the alternative."

"What does that mean?"

Why did women insist on speaking in riddles?

"It means that we have a choice, and quite a simple one at that; We either deal with this and accept that she is going to be our daughter-in-law and we try to make the best of it, or we lose him."

And why were men supposed to be able to decipher them?

"Why are those the only options?"

"Because there are no more! And if we force him to chose, he won't chose us."

She hesitated for a moment, but went on.

"And..."

He leaned over his desk, intrigued despite himself. As always, his wife was way ahead of him.

"And what?"

"And...I think that it is time we face something else. Something I like even less."

He threw his hands in the air as he fell down in his chair.

"Well, don't kill me with the suspense."

She looked straight at him.

"It's the green that makes us so reluctant to accept that Fiyero loves her. And that she might not be what they make her out to be."

He got up again.

"It is not! It is her reputation for being the terror of Oz that has me doubting our son's mental health. Her color has nothing to do with it."

"Doesn't it? I don't like admitting it either, Liir, but I've spent a lot of time thinking about this and trying to twist it every way so that we would not come out prejudiced but I can't. If she'd been a 'normal' color, would we have been as quick to judge?"

"Yes!"

Really. As if he was that shortsighted.

"Really? Because I've talked to her. She's just a girl, Liir. Defensive and twitchy and uncomfortable and_ green_, but a girl regardless. I didn't see that until I saw her with Fiyero, though. All I could focus on was everything that made her alien."

"And?"

"And it's not fair. That is not the person I want to be. If she'd looked like Glinda, we would have been quicker to give her a chance."

He didn't want to admit it, but, as so often, his wife had a point.

"Alright. Fine. The green doesn't help. It just seems unnatural."

"Yes, that's what I felt...but..."

"I hate it when you say 'but' in that tone. It usually means that I have to change my mind about something."

She smiled a soft smile.

"_But_...my little conversation with her and seeing her with Fiyero has pointed out to me that she is, in fact, quite normal. It surprised me. I didn't like that."

"You don't like that she's normal?"

An exasperated sigh. Why did this man have to make everything difficult?

"I don't like that that surprised me."

"Why not?"

"Because it's proof of my own prejudice! I was genuinely surprised to find her so human. She's peculiar, for obvious reasons but, honestly, everything else seems to be the result of a sadly lacking childhood and a stubborn nature."

"You got all that from one conversation?"

"I'm pretty good. It's why you married me."

"Hmm...A decision I'm starting to regret."

Her laughter rang through the office.

"Come on, let's go."

"Go where?"

"You're going to talk to her and see if I'm right."

"You mean see that you_ are_ right."

"Exactly."

* * *

><p>"Glinda"<p>

The sickly sweet smile on Morribele's face made the blonde freeze. Oh dear.

"Madame Morrible."

"I have had the most interesting visit with Miss Thropp just the other day. Governor Thropp, that is."

"Have you? How is Nessa? I have not seen her in too long."

"Oh, I'm afraid she's not doing very well at all. You see, her sister came to see her."

"Elphie went to see Nessa?"

"It's still Elphie, is it? Yes, the stupid little thing went looking for support, I believe. She failed in that aspect, but she did share some surprising news."

"And what would that be?" But she was growing anxious and she knew Morrible would be able to see it. Like a bloodhound, the woman could smell fear.

"Well, it seems she believes your fiance is with her not through any spell at all, but out of his own free will! In fact, she apparently believes the boy loves her."

"Is that so?"

Morrible took a step forward and looked down into Glinda's eyes, Threathening. Intimidating.

"Yes. That is so."

Her tone was mocking and filled with accusations.

"You don't seem shocked, Miss Upland."

"Well, that might be because I'm not. Fiyero and Elphaba were always really good friends. I have no trouble believing that he loves her, or even went with her without being magicked into it."

"Really good friends? I don't believe that is how Elphaba meant it. Or at least Governor Thropp didn't"

"Well, Nessa has always had a way of seeing what she wanted to see."

"Yes, that may be, but this, miss Upland, is not something she wants to see. This is something that was told her by Elphaba."

"Well, then that gives me even less reason to doubt it. Elphie never lies."

The words were clear cut and left no doubt as to how Glinda meant them. She was tired of being afraid of this woman.

"But you do."

And with those words, Morrible swept from the room.

Glinda let the breath she'd been holding escape.

Oh dear. This was not going well at all.

She needed to get to Keegan and let him know not to say a word to Morrible, but she couldn't go now, because the old witch would be sure to have her monitored.

Oh damn it. Elphie. Why had she gone to see Nessa? Didn't she know by now that for all the love that Nessa might have felt for her sister, she would never choose her side?

She would go and see Nessa. Morrible would find out, of course but she could claim she wanted to hear about Fiyero and Elphaba from Nessa herself. That wasn't so hard to believe.

Yes, she would go and see Nessa. But she would try to see Keegan first, just to be sure.

* * *

><p>The strangest thing was happening.<p>

Drakin liked her.

She didn't know why and she didn't know how she knew either, but he did.

He still came to check on her every day, and even though she groaned every day and told him she was fine and would be fine and didn't need anything, he still came. He brought her herbal tea that she didn't want but drank anyway and he talked to her.

She didn't say much in return, didn't volunteer any information but he told her stories of his children, one still in college, the other recently married, and of life in the Vinkus. He told her about the Royal family and stories of Fiyero growing up. She didn't want to be interested but she was and he must have been able to tell, because he told more and more of those as he checked her wound, took her temperature and complained that she was too thin.

Elphaba was not used to being taken care of and had no clue how to respond to this old man who fussed over her. He seemed to know that too, though, because he never lingered and he never asked her about herself. He hadn't asked about her skin, about her relationship with Fiyero, or about her reputation as the Wicked Witch. But this morning, after he'd told her she was doing fine and she could try some exercise at least, though nothing too strenuous, he'd paused in the doorway and turned back. He'd looked at her till it made her want to crawl under the sofa just to get away from his prying eyes, and then he'd smiled at her.

"The green suits you. No reason to hide it."

She'd blushed, _blushed _and stared at him, trying to decide if he was mocking her. No one, aside from Glinda and Fiyero had every said anything nice about her skin. And Glinda, she was pretty sure, had only said it to be kind. And Fiyero...well..Fiyero...he told her all sorts of things that men like him didn't say to girls like her.

But Drakin had said nothing else. He'd nodded at her and left.

What was in the water in this place?

She'd fallen into a quiet sort of strange routine here in this palace where she ate what Fiyero brought her (because she refused to order anything from the kitchen. She didn't live here.) and she let her body heal.

Being cooped up drove her crazy only when she was forced into it, but now that Drakin had declared her healthy enough to move around and get back to what she was used to (except flying, he'd added with a straight face), and now that both the Queen and Fiyero had repeatedly told her she was free to move around the castle, save for the King's offices, as that were the most frequented quarters, she felt less inclined to do so.

As a child, she'd spent nearly all of her time in her room, her nose in a book, hiding from her father. At Shiz, she'd spent most of her time in the library, hiding from her fellow students. Until she'd become friends with Galinda and Fiyero, she'd spent her time locked in rooms filled with books, so this wasn't much different, except that now Fiyero was there too, and people wandered in and out to talk to her. She knew Raina was still mostly testing the waters, but she was friendly in doing so and she was never fake about it. And Drakin, of course, tested her boundaries several times a day but did it in such a way that made it impossible to dislike him.

She had yet to see Fiyero's father though.

She suspected that he was even less eager to meet her than she was to meet him. Which is why she was quite surprised when she turned back from the huge window she'd been in front of, to find the King just inside the room, staring at her, his face all business.

"Miss Thropp."

She didn't say anything.

"My wife is convinced it would be a good idea for us to get to know each other."

Here was the next hurdle, then. How many would there be?

"You mean she thinks it's a good idea for you to get to know me."

"That's what I would have thought, but no, she seems to think it's a two way street."

He was blunt. In a way that differed from the Queen's bluntness. Raina's had been a way to find even ground, to show her that she would not be intimidated. The King's direct manner was something that belonged to him. It was his way. She knew this immediately without having to wonder why.

"Clearly, you disagree."

"I do. I don't believe I owe you any answers."

It was almost a relief. Bluntness and curtness was _her_ way too.

"But I do you."

"Well, you have captivated my son. In such an intense manner that he is willing to give up the throne to run around Oz with you, a fugitive."

"Then I would think it is your son that owes you answers, not I."

"You take no responsibility in this matter?"

It was thin ice she was treading on. Contrary to Raina, Liir would not be appeased only by Fiyero's feelings toward her. He wasn't only judging her as the woman his son loved. He was judging her by her character too.

"I take all the responsibility for my own actions. Not your son's. I didn't ask Fiyero to come with me. I didn't know that he was looking for me."

"Are you trying to tell me that you had no idea what he was after?"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you. I didn't know any more than that he was engaged to Glinda and Captain of the Gale Force, trained to capture me."

"I see. And when he did find you and insisted you make him part of your fugitive life, you did not think to say no?"

"I did. Repeatedly. Your son is not as easily deterred as he seems. Nor as flighty."

The King nodded in acknowledgment, but not satisfaction.

"So it seems. You insist on keeping this up then, this life on the run? Or on a broom, as seems to be your way."

He was goading her.

"You speak as if I have a choice in the matter."

"You do. You could turn yourself in."

Yes. He really was goading her.

"I could. I won't."

"Because you're innocent?"

It was a genuine question, but it was something else too and he didn't bother to hide the skepticism in his voice.

"Not innocent, no. but not guilty of what the Wizard accuses me of."

Another nod, but a different one this time. She couldn't tell how she knew, but her answer had been the right one.

"Then what, if I may ask, is your plan, exactly?"

Not that it mattered. He would fire more annoying questions, she was sure. She was tired of this already, and for some reason, felt comfortable enough to let it show.

"You can drop the fake polite forms. You expect me to answer anyway."

He felt a smile tug at his lips. He should have been offended, but Oz help him, she was good.

"Alright. What is your plan and how is my son involved in that?"

"My plan is to leave here, break into the palace, set free those monkeys they say I have maimed and tortured and do it all without being caught."

Other than the raising of his eyebrows, he didn't show any sign or surprise.

"And the Wizard? As long as he is in power, you will remain the Wicked Witch."

Her turn to smile, though it was a grim one.

"I'm working on that."

"You plan on killing them?"

"If I have to."

"That would make you a terrorist."

"I already have the name. I might as well deserve it."

The little tilt of his head told her he understood her reasoning.

"And Fiyero? You plan on making him one?"

"Fiyero won't be a part of that."

"Really? Does he agree with that?"

"What he thinks about that doesn't matter. This is _my_ fight."

"That hasn't stopped him so far."

"I won't allow him to risk getting hurt. He's done enough."

Sweet Lurline, it was like an oral exam.

"But you love him."

"I do."

Somehow, it was easier to admit to the King than to the Queen.

"Then why would you not want him by your side."

"I do. But not then."

"And if your name is cleared?"

Her eyebrows rose.

"I have no such delusions. Even if the Wizard and Morrible would...disappear, Oz would still see me as the Wicked Witch. They won't forget that easily."

He nodded again but impatiently. Oz, this man had a million different nods. How did Raina interpret them all? Did Fiyero have this many?

"But if it were to happen...would you stay by Fiyero's side as Queen?"

She wanted to say that they had never discussed that, that she wasn't sure they ever would, that it would probably never come to that, but she knew it was useless. The man wanted an answer and trying to talk around it would only make her appear weak.

"In the highly unlikely case that that would happen, if Fiyero would take the throne and if he wanted me to stay...I suppose that I would."

"Really? And you're not saying that because you're convinced it will never come to that?"

Again, only honesty would suffice. As far as she could offer any, anyway.

"No. I have to admit I am very skeptical about it, but if we have to take everything into account, then that too."

"Alright. Good."

He turned towards the door, but not to leave. He directed his words to the servant outside the room.

"I am in need of some coffee here. And tell Drakin to throw in some of that pecan pie he's hiding in the kitchen."

He turned back towards Elphaba.

"If he asks, I'm putting it on you. The man insists on feeding me carrots and leafy things. Something to do with them being healthy, whereas pecan pie is not."

She recognized his sudden change of demeanor for what it was. It wasn't tentative, like Raina's, nor was it peace-keeping, like Fiyero's often was. He was simply done for now, satisfied with what he'd heard. She supposed that she was too, so she went along with it.

"He does seem rather fussy. I'm actually not allowed coffee."

"He cut you off? Ha. He tried that with me, but I'm the King. Coffee isn't optional." He looked at her and took it a step further. He was still testing her, after all, but it was a different kind of test.

"I wouldn't have pegged you for the type to be cut off."

He really was testing her character. She took the bait.

"At least he didn't cut me off pie."

There was a smirk then that reminded her of Fiyero so much it made her smile back.

"He thinks I'm too skinny."

Liir took her in from head to toe, appraising her without a hint of shame.

"Yes, there is not much to you, is there?"

Her eyebrows went into her hairline.

"Being a fugitive does not lend many opportunities for gluttony."

He laughed at that. It surprised even him.

"Alright. Sit down, Elphaba Thropp. The hard part is over."

Her eyebrows stayed where they were, but she complied.

Liir looked at the girl opposite him, a thin body folded into a chair, big eyes looking straight at him. Daring him. Ready for whatever challenge he threw her way. Good. He was ready too.

"So. Fiyero tells me you are interested in politics..."

* * *

><p>Two hours later, Elphaba was still in that same seat and Liir seemed to have no intentions of leaving soon. He'd ordered more coffee, more pie and had a rather amusing confrontation with Drakin about the second helping of pie, in which the latter had frowned disapprovingly at the coffee mug in Elphaba's hand. She'd talked, and been talked to, about politics, books, the culture of the Vinkuns, art, history and economics. He'd asked her questions and evoked opinions. It seemed like a conversation and she couldn't be sure if this was simply a King's way of making small talk, but it truly felt, at times, like an examination of some sort. Luckily, she'd always been a great student and with opinions aplenty, exams had never proven a problem.<p>

She didn't know what disturbed her more; the fact that the King was still there (didn't he have a province to run or something?) or that she didn't mind. She hadn't been this comfortable with Raina. She'd never been this at ease with anyone, except Fiyero and Glinda. Maybe not even them.

But Liir was easier to talk to than his wife. Raina meant well and she was friendly, but she saw, and tried to see, too much. Liir didn't try to read between the lines that hard. He took her words and built on them, instead of focusing on what she didn't say. He was brusk and had an odd sense of humor but he was intelligent, alert and open-minded enough to allow her to answer honestly. He was, she thought, a good King and a kind man. And it was obvious that he really wanted his son to be the one to follow him as leader of the Vinkuns.

She hoped for his sake, that Fiyero would be able to some day. She just didn't see how she could be a part of that.

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><p><strong>I'm hoping there will be some reviews waiting for me when I return :) I really am trying quite hard to find internet connections as I go.<strong>

**Thanks for reading in any case! Amazing that people actually have this on alert and everything!**


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23.**

**A/N I'm back! I am so sorry, seriously, for the lack of updates. I truly just didn't have access to the internet. I am back now, though so updates will be much more regular for the remainder of the story. I hope you're still reading :) Thanks for reviewing! It brightened up my day immensely! **

**Now, while I am off to do some reading myself, I hope you'll review :)**

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><p>They're having dinner. Well, sort of. They're in his mother's private garden; <em>he'<em>s eating dinner and Elphaba is picking at her food. She was never a big eater, he hasn't known her other than skinny, but it's been worse the past few days. She's twitchy and edgy and nervous. It clings to her. It's like she's waiting for something, but she won't tell him what it is and she's losing her patience. So is he, but then, he always loses his patience when she loses hers. He's impatient with her impatience.

She annoys him sometimes, when she gets like this. All evasive and avoiding his eyes, refusing to share her thoughts. She doesn't like to lie, so she prefers to say nothing. It drives him crazy. He'd almost rather she lie to him, because then he'd have something to go on. It'd be better than this silence that envelops them when she retreats into her own world that she won't make him a part of.

Sometimes he thinks he's closer to figuring her out. But then he blinks and there's more to her again than he could have guessed. Another layer he needs to peel away. It's difficult, he remembers it being difficult back at Shiz. Back then, however, he'd had more patience. He'd had more time. Or so he'd thought. Now, things are different. They love each other now, in a way that had been inconceivable to both of them back then. So yes, she annoys him sometimes. Like right now.

But even when she annoys him, even when she really annoys him, he knows that he's in love with her. It's because he is in love with her, that it annoys him. He loves her. It's one of the very few things he can be sure of, maybe the only thing. He wants to spend his life with her. No second thoughts.

He wonders if she feels the same way but he also wonders if she knows he feels that way. She should, but maybe she doesn't. Maybe she has no clue as to how serious he is about them.

Maybe he should tell her.

He looks up and her eyes are trained on the sky, then flicker to the side, to a far-off point on the horizon, a place that he can't see.

She bites her lip, which distracts him for a moment from what he wants to say, and he watches as she takes a breath and spears another bite of cake onto her fork. It draws his attention to her lips, and she glances at him from the corner of her eye.

"What exactly are you staring at?"

It comes out harsher than she intended, because she will never be comfortable with being stared at.

He frowns at her tone, but lets it go.

"You."

"Well, could you stop?"

"No."

She just huffs at that.

"I want to marry you."

She stops eating then. Drops the fork into the table, it makes a clinking sound when it touches the plate.

"You want to _what?_"

"I want to get married. To you. I want you to be my wife, and I want to be your husband." He speaks as if he's explaining something very simple, to someone who should know better by now. "I want to marry you."

He shrugs and steals her cake. She's never going to finish it now anyway and hers is better than his.

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><p>He's gone mad. That's the only explanation. The only logical explanation for all of it. Everything that's happened.<p>

_I want to marry you._

And he'd said it so casually, the way you would inform someone that the mail had come.

She knows he hasn't gone mad, though. The problem is that she knows he's serious.

He's completely serious. He really wants to marry her.

She's been silent for about four hours now. Four hours in which she's gone over every possible answer. Every way in which she should tell him he really does _not_ want to marry her, even if he _thinks_ he does. That he doesn't know what he's saying, what he's getting into. Four hours in which she's mulled over why he would want to, and why he would bring it up now. And four hours in which she's tried not to think about what _she_ wants. He's finished all the food, he's showered and shaven and he's on the bed in his old bedroom that they share now, lounging, playing with her glasses, a sketchbook in his lap.

He's taken up sketching to have something to do because he gets bored when she's reading. She'd never known he'd done that, but then it turns out he didn't either. He started when she was…away, as he refers to it. _Away._

He'd hated the posters they'd made of her, and he didn't have any pictures, so he'd made one himself. Then he drew Glinda. And her again. And Glinda, to make him feel less guilty. And then her again. And for every one he did of her, he made himself do one of something else.

Now he just draws whatever his eye falls on. Usually, it falls on her. There are a few lying around the room. She frowns when she sees them, because she thinks they look nothing like her. They're way too pretty, too delicate.

It bugs her because she loves it. There's this ridiculous little wiggle her stomach does when she sees them.

The fact that he could really see her that way, as something soft and beautiful...it makes her shiver, but in a good way. It melts her heart a little. And she realizes then that she sees him that way too. He'd stolen her heart all those years ago and today that little thrill of his hand around hers, that fuzzy warmth when he smiles at her..it's stronger than it has ever been. Maybe she doesn't believe yet that there could be a happy ending for them, that there truly is a place for her in his life and the other way around, but she does love him. And she knows, she _knows_, that it's a love that will last a lifetime, even if their relationship doesn't. She'll never feel for anybody what she feels for him.

She looks at him now, from her spot on the floor, as he lies on the bed, spread out, her glasses on his nose, pulling a face at whatever he's doing. He seems so relaxed, but so alive all at the same time. All the time.

"Why?"

He doesn't move at all, except to move his eyes from the page in in front of him to her face. His eyebrows raised in question.

"Why, what?"

"Why would you want to marry me?"

He plucks the glasses from his nose and sits up, the pillow that he's been using rumpled behind him. She has no idea why but the sight of that stupid pillow, next to her untouched one, makes her want to cry.

"Because I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you. And though I know people don't have to get married even if they spend their whole lives together, I was raised in a more…traditional environment and I would like for us to be married."

He keeps his eyes trained on hers, because he's not ashamed or embarrassed and he wants her to know.

"I didn't propose to you the traditional way because..well…I don't have a ring yet, and I didn't think you were ready for that anyway, but I want you to know that I have every intention of proposing to you. And when I do, I hope you'll say yes, because I would like to be your husband. And I would be very honoured, if you were to be my wife."

He's so quiet and sincere, it shakes her a little. She'd half expected him to be casual about this too, but he has a way of suddenly turning into a true Prince when he's genuine, when he's really sincere.

She stares at him, unable to break away, but when she does, because it is just too much and she finally finds the nerve to look back up, he's turned his attention back to his book.

"Fiyero?"

"Hmm?" He turns the page before he looks up.

She takes a deep breath and looks back at him. She needs to say this, because he deserves to hear it and he's been so incredibly patient.

"I...if...when you do ask...If you do...I'll say yes."

He smiles, and turns another page.

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><p>The fuzzy warm feeling that had come with their confessions didn't last long.<p>

And it was for one clear reason; Nessa was in danger.

She could feel it. Sense it, somehow. She'd never have thought they were close enough for that, but she loved her sister with all she had and maybe that was enough.

Elphaba stood on the balcony attached to the library, her hands clenching the canopy, staring up at the sky.

Something was brewing. It was in the air. She could feel it. Hear it. It murmured and itched underneath her skin, making her even more restless than she usually was.

A change in the weather. That's what it was. She knew this feeling. Knew who had the power to cause it.

Right then, a howling sound loud enough to make her ears bleed, though no one else seemed to have heard it, and...no...it couldn't be...her eyes narrowed as they followed a strangely familiar shape shoot through the sky...was that a...No...no...that was insane...but it was...it had been...

A house.

It couldn't be her imagination.

It wasn't paranoia.

It had been a warning. Her instinct, that she'd relied on to survive for so long, had tried to tell her, and she hadn't listened.

She couldn't ignore this. Despite Fiyero's words, despite hers, despite the fact that he'd hate it, she could not ignore this. It was Nessa. No matter what had transpired between them, she would never forgive herself if something happened while she'd been able to prevent it.

"Elphaba?"

She didn't want to turn around and face him. He knew, of course. He always knew.

"I have to go."

She spoke without turning, her eyes still trained on the horizon, gripping the canopy with both hands so tight it hurt, but it was the only way of keeping herself there. She knew that if she let go, she'd run, move, fly without explaining.

"Elphaba."

It is clear from the way he says her name that he already knows he is not going to win this time, so she turns around to look him in the eye, hoping that that will be enough to ground her.

"Fiyero, please. I can't not go. It's Nessa. I know it. I have to go."

"How do you know that?"

"I don't know. I just do. And I can't ignore it."

She looked at him and there's a plea in her eyes that he's never seen before. She's asking him to understand, not telling him. It changes everything.

"I know."

She nods and within moments, she's disappeared through the open door and when he catches up and enters his bedroom, their bedroom, she's already changed into her dress. The dress that transforms her into that magical enchantress again. Her cape is next and her hair goes up in a knot with the swift movements that tell him how often she's done that. He wants to say so many things but this is all too overwhelming and it seems he's lost the ability to speak.

A sound behind him shakes him from his catatonic state; his mother enters the room and stares at the woman who's back at the window, broom in one hand, hat in the other. They're back at the exact same spot as they when they met. _Was that really only a few days ago? _

Elphaba is the first to speak. That doesn't happen often. Raina doesn't know that, but Fiyero does.

"I have to go. My sister..." She doesn't finish her sentence because she has no clue how to.

The Queen doesn't answer, only glances at her son, still frozen in his place and then back at the green woman in the window.

"Something is wrong with your sister?"

She doesn't ask how Elphaba knows that. She has a distinct feeling she wouldn't like the answer. And it wouldn't tell her much, anyway.

"Yes. At least, I think so. I just...I can't not go." She looks at Raina then and feels the need to say something.

"I am...grateful, for what you've done. What you've tried to do."

It's enough. Raina steps forward, but then changes her mind. They're don't know each other well enough for sentiment. The silence is broken by Fiyero.

"I'm going with you."

She'd been expecting those words and had prepared for this argument.

"No. It's too dangerous."

He opens his mouth to argue but closes it again when he realizes it would be of no use. She won't change her mind on this either.

She takes a few steps towards him, tries to ignore Raina's presence in the room.

"We'll see each other again."

She tries to make it sound reassuring but it turns into a question instead.

"Won't we?"

He shakes his head as he grabs her shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"Elphaba. We're going to be together forever. Why can't you see that?"

She nods then and kisses him. It's the first time she's done that in front of anyone and it tells him how worried she is. He ignores the pinch in his stomach, the voice in his head that points out how much she seems to have changed. Now that he's got her, he has to let go again. He takes her hands and pulls her back for another kiss, then lets go.

She walks back to the window and positions her broom. She doesn't look back until Raina steps forward at the last moment.

"Elphaba?"

She turns around for that, her eyebrow raised in a silent question.

"Good luck."

The older woman hesitates for a moment then, but only for a moment before she takes another step forward.

"And make sure to come back."

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><p>He'd never make it.<p>

He stomped up the stairs, as fast as he could, and he was sure he'd never been this noisy.

She'd left only a minute ago, but she was flying and that made her advantage much greater than he liked.

He would go with her, of course. As if that had been a question. But he knew she never would have let him on that broom, so this was, in fact, the quicker way. He knew where she was going and he could get there reasonably fast on a horse.

He could only hope it was fast enough.

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><p><em>Glinda.<em>

_Oz, Glinda._

She hadn't thought she'd ever get to see her again. Let alone talk to her.

And now, it had to be like this. Over something that she'd never, in a million years, thought she'd fight over, with her former room mate.

She wanted to care, to care enough to stop but the sight of the blonde in her ridiculous dress, crouching at where her sister had died...lay dead...

And she'd given that stupid little farm brat her sister's shoes!

_An accident..._

She could not actually be that stupid. She certainly never had been. Shallow, yes, and not often interested in what went on beneath the surface, but not stupid.

Maybe Morrible's power went beyond the weather. Maybe it included brainwashing too.

"And what exactly have you been doing? Except riding around on that filthy old thing?!"

It surprised Elphaba how much that stung, but her broom had been her only sidekick for so many years, it had been her rescue more times than she could count.

She lashed out.

"Well, we can't all come and go by bubble! And whose invention was that, the Wizard's? Of course, even if it wasn't, I'm sure he'll still take the credit for it."

Judging by the blonde's embarrassed blush, it was a sore spot.

Good.

"Yes, well. A lot of us are taking things that don't belong to us, aren't we?"

Oh. That was...that was so low...so cheap...

It was...

Oz, it was true.

Guilt washed over her, but she didn't let it show because as much as she felt guilt and blame over what had happened with Fiyero, it also hurt to hear Glinda say that. She felt cheapened by it. As if she'd taken Fiyero, instead of him finding her. As if it had been her alone, instead of them together.

"Now wait just a clock-tick. I didn't _take _anything. He found me! And you know that, so don't even try to put this only on me!"

Glinda said nothing at that and Elphaba could feel all the guilt that had been building up inside her since she'd fled with Fiyero overtake her. A part of her wanted to drop the broom and comfort her best friend.

She would always consider Glinda her best friend. Her only friend. Save for Fiyero, of course. Save, always, for Fiyero. Fiyero was...well...he was part of her now, a part of who she was and he had been since that damn Lion cub. But Glinda...Glinda had been her first friend and she would always,_ always_, be her best friend. She would always love Glinda more than she loved herself, more than she loved her sister. Just not more than she loved Fiyero. Being away from him brought clarity. She loved him, truly, more than anything.

"I _will_ put this on you! You were in love with him back at school, Elphie, and you know it! You've been waiting for this for Oz knows how long!"

That was true too, but it also wasn't and it hurt. It hurt and it wasn't fair.

"I know it may be difficult for that blissful blonde brain of your to comprehend, Glinda, but he doesn't love you! He never loved you. He loves _me_."

She really shouldn't have added that last part. It was uncalled for and it wasn't like her. But Glinda's words cut too deep. She doesn't know what else she said exactly. Maybe something else about how Fiyero chose _her_, maybe something else about those shoes, but before she can comprehend what is happening, she's opposite Glinda in the silliest fight she's ever been in and it lasts less than a minute, because suddenly her arms are pulled back and the Gale Force is all around her; her broom on the floor, her hat suddenly gone. _Where did it go?_ And Glinda is standing there, while those guards apologize for being late and she can't believe, she can not believe, that Glinda would ever sink this low.

"I didn't! I never meant to..."

But Glinda doesn't get to finish her sentence because everything changes then. From a different corner, another man, in a similar uniform, swings in and points his rifle at the men in the room, the nuzzle changing direction but steadying, eventually, on the blonde in the corner.

"Let the green girl go!"

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><p><strong>I had to. You understand I had to, right? <strong>

**Next chapter will be here Thursday, but the way. **


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

**A/N I just thought we could have a little drama before it all ends :) I hope you forgive me :)**

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><p>The panic that clenches in her chest, wraps its tentacles around her heart, doesn't let up. Not for a moment, as she flees the scene of her near-death, straight into the dark night. Her broom again her saviour, but an unwanted one this time. The rock sitting heavily on her stomach makes her gag, the need to throw up coming in waves too great to fight, but she does because throwing up would slow her down and she can't afford to slow down.<p>

That stupid, stupid, stubborn, pigheaded, brainless, beautiful man.

Fiyero.

How could he?

Why would he?

Oh Fiyero.

Oh Oz, _Fiyero_.

Why?

_Why?_

But she knows the answer, as her broom rushes her through the night sky, on her way to whatever will help her. She was headed for the Vinkus at first, to where the Grimmerie is, but it's too far away and Yackle is closer to her than the Vinkus. She wants to go back and get him, but she wants a spell at the same time. Her mind is too chaotic, for the first time in her life, to see clearly. To make a decision.

She wants to go back and find him and do whatever is necessary, anything at all, to make him be okay. She wants to pray to all the deities she's never believed in. She wants to make a deal with the devil and sign away her soul. She wants to beg anyone who could possibly help her to save him.

_Save him, and I'll do anything._

She's not entirely sure what the Gale Force will do to him, but she saw him being dragged away and their shouts and cheers didn't promise anything good. So she settled on Yackle's old place instead, hoping to find something there, hoping to find Yackle there, because she knows more than Elphaba does and she needs, she needs...

Something. Anything.

Anything will do.

She lands with a thud, a smash through the wood where the window used to be, her arm raised to shield her face. She doesn't waste time. She's already running behind.

She's already too late.

"Why are you here?"

Her head swivels from left to right, taking in everything but seeing nothing. The fact that Yackle is indeed there doesn't bring relief so much as more impatience.

"I need a spell."

"I know. That answers your question."

"A spell!"

Magic coils around her hands...her power out of control now that her emotions are.

"Quickly!"

Her hair whips around her, wild and manic.

"I don't know..." She falters at that.

"I can't be sure how long he's got left...they might not kill him, but..."

Yackle takes over, watching the green woman spin circles around the room, energy and anger sizzling in the air around her.

"Oh, they'll try."

Her voice is calm. Quiet. It's a way to try and get the younger woman to focus. Two people screaming wouldn't help anyone.

"Then why are you still standing there?! I don't have time for this. Either give me what I need or get out of my way."

Yackle doesn't move from her spot and she doesn't raise her voice.

"And what kind of spell is it you're looking for exactly?"

"I don't know. I don't care. Anything...anything that will save him. That will stop his pain. He's suffering because of me."

She's not calming down, desperation radiating off her, but, worse than that and far more dangerous, is the power she holds within her, unaware of how much she's got of it. And it's as uncontrolled and unguided as it's ever been.

"He's not suffering because of you, he's suffering _for_ you."

"What difference does that make, if it kills him in the end?"

Her hair is still dancing around her, but it's not from any wind. Yackle sees, for the first time, the Wicked Witch that everyone speaks of. She doesn't fear her, but she sees her now. This is the first time Elphaba is_ willing_ to be the Wicked Witch. It's a choice she's made, even if it is born of despair.

"It makes all the difference. He suffers willingly, because he loves you."

"And he'll pay for that with his life. I won't let him."

She nearly falls back into that circle of pain and fear and desperation, but she remembers herself then. At least enough to come back to focus.

"Now..."

But she's still too wired up. Too dangerous.

"Now _what_ exactly? What are you looking for? Your book won't help you, even if you had it here. The kind of spell you want doesn't exist."

Yackle knows that she is stalling and she knows it won't work for long, but she needs to, in order to make the younger woman calm down enough to be able to perform a spell.

"I need something to save him from whatever they're doing to him. To stop the pain. To make sure he won't..."

She can't. She can't finish that sentence.

Yackle nods then. She knows, of course. And she doesn't need her powers for that, either.

"Magic can't be trifled with. I understand your motivation but this will only succeed in messing things up even more. By what you're saying now, you'll do no more than turn him into a pillowcase."

"Go away!"

"When will you learn, you stupid, stupid, bull-headed little girl, that some people are willing to help you!"

"Fine. Give me whatever spell you're thinking off but do it now. I don't know..."

Her voice keeps breaking and it's a sensation that's unfamiliar to her. It angers her, this powerlessness.

"I don't even know what they're doing. If he's still even..."

A part of Yackle is glad, in a strange way, to see her former house guest in this state of heartbreak. Because that's what it is, and she hadn't thought that she'd ever see Elphaba like this. She hadn't expected her to find love, in the first place. She was so incredibly introvert, so private, so closed off from the world. But clearly Fiyero Tiggular had found a way through that. For that alone, the boy deserved to live.

"Then I suggest you go and get him."

"_What?_"

"Get him. Take him home. And we'll do what we can. As long as he is alive, there is something we can do."

"Take him home?"

"He will stand the best chance there. It's his home and he'll receive the best care there."

She didn't add that Elphaba, too, would need those things. What she did need to mention, because she hadn't lied when she'd said magic wasn't to be trifled with and she lived by example, or tried to when she could, was the effect this spell would have. On both of them.

"You must realize what this asks of you."

She could see the green witch was ready to brush her off, to cast aside whatever warning she was about to issue, but Yackle didn't let her.

"Elphaba."

The stern use of her name earned her some attention.

"You must give everything or not even dare to attempt this. It's not a matter of restoring what was taken from him and there are no spells to bring the dead back to life. I have no healing potions that will miraculously heal broken bones. This spell will take from you what is given to him."

She could see another interruption coming, so she spoke quickly, hastily, but clearly.

"He will heal, but you will suffer. Understand what I am saying; It will not, or should not, kill either of you. It's not that simple. I am not talking about your life. It's not one life for the other. It's sharing your energy to give to him, only that requires your soul to touch his. Healing is all about energy. Energy is about souls. His will connect to yours."

She took a few steps forward, not touching her, but close enough to demand attention.

"Do you understand what I am saying? He'll be able to see everything. _Everything_. There will be no hiding. It is not a simple matter of giving some, but not more than you please. The control will be out of your hands. You say you want to offer yourself to save him? That is exactly what it will take. And there is no going back."

There was no fear in the brown eyes though. What would have terrified her only a few days ago , didn't mean anything anymore. She was past that. For now at least.

"Doesn't that apply to both of us then?"

"It does. But he would be willing. Because he loves you more than is wise. More than is good for him." She stops there but the unspoken question lingers in the air. _What about you?_

She could see the woman hesitate, but not for long. She might come to regret it later but at least he'd be alive.

"I love him more than is good for him."

And she was out the window without another word.

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><p>How could she have failed so miserably?<p>

She had wanted to help. She was supposed to help. She was Glinda the Good to the citizens of Oz, but she hadn't been able to do anything good for her best friend.

And Fiyero...

Elphie had gotten away, but at what cost?

She'd tried to stop them, then to follow them but she hadn't stood a chance against the Wizard's guards and now...

She had not a single clue as to where they were. Where Elphie had gone. Where Fiyero was. If they were even still alive.

She could guess Elphie was, because her death would cause celebrations throughout Oz that would not go unnoticed by anyone, but Fiyero...

What could she do now but wait?

Wait and hope that they would be alright.

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><p>It was worse that she could have imagined. But he was alive.<p>

At least he was alive.

When she'd seen him on that pole, she'd felt, for the first time in her life, enough anger to kill. To truly kill without regret. Had the Gale Force officers still been there, they would have paid for this. She didn't stop to blame herself for the thought. They deserved it.

But perhaps so did she. After Dr. Dillamond, after Nessa...everyone she cared for, who cared the slightest bit about her, paid with their lives.

_Fiyero._

He would be the last one.

She'd get him home, she'd get him healed and whole. And safe. And then it was done.

No more.

She glanced back at the man lying against her. He wasn't conscious, which was a good thing because even she didn't know how she'd managed the trip on a broom, but she saw, eventually, the tall windows of the castle rise up in the distance.

She chose the window they'd come in the first time, stumbling as both her broom and she lost their balance, and it was as if the whole castle had been on the look-out because within seconds the King, Queen and Drakin rushed inside.

Raina was the first and she stumbled to a halt at the sight of her son on the floor, blood in too many places and his face...

She didn't waste time here, either. They could blame her for it all, they could try and execute her if they wanted. They could do as they pleased, as long as she got to see him get better first. She needed to know he would be okay.

"Hold his arms. Steady."

She spoke to no one in particular, and it was the King that stepped forward. It would have surprised her maybe, had she cared enough to pay attention to details.

"What are you doing?"

He didn't ask what had happened. She wasn't sure whether that was because he could guess or because he knew it didn't matter.

She looked at him for a second, then at Raina. She couldn't look Drakin in the eye. For some reason, she feared his disappointment more than she did Fiyero's parents.

"I need to do a spell."

A voice somewhere in the back of her head said that she should probably be more forthcoming, but it wasn't loud enough and she shut it up with no trouble. They wouldn't care as long as their son lived.

"Just hold his arms. I don't know what this will do exactly and his body..."

Raina stepped forward too, kneeling beside her husband.

"What kind of spell?"

"It's...It's energy. He needs mine, to heal. I don't have to to explain. It will take from me what he needs. It shouldn't hurt him." Of course, nothing should have hurt him, and look what it had come to.

"And you?"

That was Drakin. She was annoyed with herself for the relief she felt at his voice, holding no anger. Both Raina and Liir looked up at that.

"I don't know."

As if it mattered.

She sank to her knees, as close to Fiyero as she dared. She wanted to touch him but didn't let herself. She'd break down if she touched him now, felt his clammy skin against hers, his pulse slowing. She'd never let go.

She frantically searched for the piece of paper Yackle had given her and that reminded her of the old woman's promise. She addressed her words to Drakin, looking at him for the first time since he'd entered the room.

"There will be a woman here later. I don't know how much later but soon. She's the one that gave me the spell. She can help. She will help. Please let her in. If I fail at this or if something happens... She's powerful. Fiyero knows her."

He nodded.

"I would like for you both to be okay."

She didn't say anything at that. She appreciated the sentiment but she didn't agree with it and she'd wasted enough time.

She folded out the paper and sat next to him, the words flowing from her mouth. She didn't see the scared, shocked and surprised faces of the other people in the room. She didn't feel herself fall, or the hands that laid her down carefully, next to Fiyero.

She only felt a pull somewhere, deep inside and a bright flash of light.

A sharp pain in her stomach, her thighs, her head. She felt her legs twitch and something ran down her cheek...water...or blood...

She heard shouting and screaming but didn't know where it came from.

She felt another kind of pain, a different kind, resonating through her entire body, pounding and throbbing and then nothing.

Nothing.

And then...

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><p><strong>Please do review...<strong>

**Oh, and is there anyone who knows how this cover thing works? I mean, I have no clue what I want, to be honest, but I do like the idea. Is there anyone who has an idea for this cover and who knows how to make one? **

**I don't want to impose or steal away precious spare time, mind you. I'm merely curious. Unfortunately, I'm a complete loser when it comes to computer skills. Finding the on/off button and copy/paste is the extent of my knowledge.**

**Thanks for reading! **


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25.**

**A/N Thank you for the reviews. It's awesome to have people take the time to leave a word. Please keep it up :)**

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><p>It was white.<p>

White light.

Such a cliche.

He remembered such cliches from long-forgotten poetry in dusty classrooms back at Shiz. From novels he'd never read and stories he'd heard tell. He'd never thought his life to be a cliche until he met Elphaba and knew differently. He was a prince but never a promising one. A rebel but not a true one. She...was a true original, as much by default as by choice. Unfamiliar and surprising in every aspect, yet utterly believable. Anything but a cliche.

His most original and defining quality, he knew, was being able to see her for who she was, where the rest of the world was blind to everything but her color. It was an affliction he was grateful for and one that made every life choice for him from the moment he'd decided to help her save that Lion cub.

Now, loving her was an integral part of him; he hated libraries (silence always got to him for some reason) and avocados (pretty much the only green he couldn't bring himself to like), liked dancing and cotton candy and loved Elphaba Thropp. Fiyero Tiggular in a nutshell.

So the decision to swing in on that rope, an entrance he couldn't help but be quite proud of, had been an easy one. It was either him or her and the latter wasn't an option.

When he'd thrown down his rifle at Glinda's feet, because _of course _he was never going to hurt her, and been dragged off by what remained of his Gale Force, he'd known what was to come.

So he wasn't sure what was happening now, but he did know it was not what he had expected of death.

The picture of his former girlfriend and the men he'd called friends faded. Elphaba, her arms held back by the men he would never call friends again, blurring along the lines until it was nothing more than a vague memory somewhere in the distance.

_Fiyero, how in Oz..._

But she'd never finished her sentence because he'd interrupted her question with an order.

_I said, let her go! _

And he'd pointed his gun at a woman he'd believed he could love, a long time ago.

A time before a girl had entered his life that had turned it upside down without so much as an apology.

A girl that had changed him completely without being aware of it. Even he hadn't been aware of what she'd done, what she truly meant, until she'd left never to come back.

The girl he was seeing now.

Only he wasn't merely _seeing _her.

A tiny green girl, skinny legs and straight black hair that ran down her back. A small face with big brown eyes. He could see her, sitting on a bed with a blanket pulled over her legs, up to her chin.

But he_ felt _her too.

She was cold and scared, huddling beneath the tattered blanket without wanting to admit her fear. Half hidden, and half raised up to face whatever it was she feared.

Little green fingers on the ledge of a windowsill as a coffin was carried over the grass. Confusion and grief and chaos in her mind. Her mother's funeral?

He never got to see what it was because the next moment, he saw her running down a gravel road, fast, so fast, past trees and bushes, hurried and out of breath. Scared again but not of the unknown this time. She looked,_ he _looked, behind to see other children follow. It took him a second to realize that she was running from them, they were chasing her. She was fast, but not fast enough. He could see, feel, as they caught up with her enough to throw a rock that hit her in the shoulder. She didn't fall but she stumbled and it slowed her down enough for a boy to catch up with her. He pushed her, Fiyero could feel his hands grabbing at her arms and then push her against a tree. _What color do you bruise, little frog? Is it green when you bleed? _Fiyero felt anger at that but she didn't. She fought back and ran and the next thing he knew he was in a bathroom, where she sat on the edge of the bathtub and bit her lip as she cleaned a wound on her arm (had that boy given it to her or was this a different time, a different bully?) It hurt, he could feel it, but she didn't cry. She didn't make a sound, but he could taste the coppery blood as pushed her teeth into her bottom lip and cleaned up the mess.

He whirled past another picture, her father talking to Nessa. Elphaba, as still and silent as she could, sitting at the same table, a piece of paper of some kind in front of her. This was a clear moment. He could tell it was important somehow; the colors were more vibrant and he could almost feel her heartbeat. A rapport card, that's what it was. All A's. It didn't surprise him. She wanted to show her father, he would have been able to tell that even if he hadn't felt the anxiety. But Frex didn't pay his daughter any attention. He was focused on his youngest and her rapport card. Fiyero wanted to say something but knew he wouldn't be able to. These were memories, Elphaba's memories, and he didn't know how but he was along for the ride. He watched as she took the card of the table, put it away and picked up her fork.

He wondered about the how and why of it all but before he could come to a conclusion, he was dragged along by the next flash of memory, another piece of her life.

A leap in time, as he saw her in front of Shiz. Her father coming up behind her, pushing Nessa. He yelled at her about something, but she barely took notice. Excitement and apprehension fought a battle inside her but excitement shone the brightest.

More moments at Shiz then. Fellow students that called her names, being roomed with Galinda, who refused to speak to her. The library, quiet and solitary. Protective and safe.

No one had wanted to talk to her, he remembered, but now he realized that she had never expected anything else. She seemed quite happy, as he got a glimpse of Dr Dillamond as he praised her work. In fact, she was happier than ever because her brain was finally being challenged and she was rewarded for who she was, with good grades and attention from Professor Dillamond.

One moment followed right after the other, barely seconds long but a whirlwind of emotion that felt much longer.

His own face then, as she dropped her books and he stared at her anger in laughter.

_Maybe the driver saw green and thought it meant go. _

The hat she'd worn at his welcoming party. The cut of shame and sadness at the Ozdust, when she realized it had all been a sham, a prank to make a fool of her. The anger at herself because she'd fallen for it, dared to hope.

Her fear as the classroom went crazy. He remembered that day as if it was yesterday and he knew the expression on her face because it had been what had propelled him into action and he'd seen that face so many times, in dreams and nightmares alike. She was scared, genuinely afraid, of what she'd done and what would happen. She felt lonely, in that moment, and he felt it as if it was him (and it was, now, in a way) but then he had run forward, his eyes trained on hers and the shock that pulsed through her at his action silenced him. He knew that she'd been surprised at his help but he'd never known how shell-shocked she'd been. Had_ no one_ ever done _anything _for her?

The shock of his hand against hers, when she'd grabbed onto his to make him stay. No one touched her out of their own free will, until Galinda had come along. Except for Nessa, maybe. No man certainly had ever so much as touched her.

The pain of seeing him with Galinda, and the acceptance that followed right after. There was no fight in her when it came to things like this. Only resignation.

The Wizard and the moment she realized the truth. The fight in her, the pain (but no sense of surprise) of Galinda saying no to joining her in her defiance.

The absolute thrill of her first flight.

Flashes of being cold, hurt, wet, hungry. The longing for warmth, in every sense of the word. The taunting memories of him and Galinda. The memories of not being truly alone.

Flashes of his face, of the poppies he'd given her at the train station. Poppies, whenever she saw them, reminded her of him.

His face kept popping up now. It startled him. He'd spent so much time thinking about her, searching for her, that he'd never stopped to consider that maybe she'd thought about him nearly as often.

_You shouldn't have to be, should you?_

_Do you understand why I'm here with you?_

The victories of what she did. The Animals that were saved, that were grateful. The joy of doing something good.

The loneliness. The knowledge that she could never have made another choice, but the desperate wish that she'd never have had to.

The absolute, terrifying shock at seeing him in that rundown building where he'd gone to find her. The fierce love she felt, and the surprise at the feeling. Astonishment at her first kiss. Bliss then, as she let herself give in for a second.

The disbelief at his words, at his declaration of love. She didn't believe him. She wasn't worthy of him and never would be.

Her pain and the shattering of the last smidgens of hope as Nessa refused to listen, to help, to believe.

Hurt and denial at Glinda's accusations and harsh words. Guilt at the truth in those words. Love too, though, for her best friend.

The utter fear and complete horror as she watched him swing into that field to save her. Her heart, his heart, felt as if it was being torn from her chest, literally being ripped to pieces, as the soldiers hauled him off.

The desperation to save him. To do nothing else but save him. Her willingness to die for that. For him. She'd give _everything_, for him.

He felt it all.

He saw it all.

It flashed before his eyes, in his mind, around his heart, faster than a heartbeat, but he saw her whole life.

Oz, this girl...

He didn't feel himself waking up, couldn't tell the difference anymore between dead or alive, awake and asleep. Questions of where he was, and who with, what had happened and what would happen next, made their way to the front of his brain as he struggled his way to consciousness.

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><p>"Fiyero?"<p>

He knew that voice but couldn't place it.

"Fiyero?"

A warm hand clasped around his. He knew that touch.

That voice.

Of course. His mother.

"Mom?"

"Oh, Thank Oz."

He blinked to get the foggy remains of sleep out of his eyes.

"Mom?"

He tried to move but soft and steady hands pushed him back into the mattress.

"Yes. I'm here. Your father too. I..."

He was glad to see them, to hear the voices he knew so well. But he was missing one voice. One face.

"Elphaba..."

His father's face filled his line of vision.

"She's...she's not awake yet, son. Don't worry now. Rest first. She's just in the next room so no need to panic."

He must have slept a while. His head was heavy and filled with clouds. And he didn't hurt. Or not as much as he should be hurting, at least.

"What happened?"

"You don't remember?"

"I remember the Gale Force."

He sat up, despite the hands that tried to hold him back.

"I remember them dragging me off. I thought I was going to die. I thought I had died."

He paused there. Maybe...

"Wait. _Did_ I die?"

"No. No. Fiyero. Calm down. You're not dead. Neither is Elphaba. Though they did almost...but they didn't so it doesn't matter right now."

He was wide awake, all of a sudden. Clear-headed.

"How did I end up here? Like this?"

"We're not sure. Elphaba brought you here. You were really hurt, Fiyero. She did a spell. I don't know for sure what she did exactly, but you got better. Your wounds just disappeared. Most of them anyway."

"What?"

"Yes. She had a spell. She said you'd be fine."

So...that had been real? His dream. Her dreams? What...how...maybe he wasn't awake enough, after all.

"Where is she?"

"She's in the next room. She's.."

"Is she okay?"

"Well...I...we don't really know. Like I said, she did a spell and you got better...but...well...she didn't."

She didn't say anything else and his father looked grim.

He got up.

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><p>He should have been surprised but wasn't to see Yackle in the next room.<p>

"Well, I never thought I'd see you look this spry again, Master Tiggular."

"I never thought I'd see you again at all."

He didn't bother with pleasantries. He was grateful for all the woman had done for him, for Elphaba, for Keegan, but he'd be glad to never see her again.

"I know that's what you'd hoped for, but since you two can't seem to keep yourselves out of trouble..."

Had he said that out loud? He didn't care.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing too serious, though it's hard to say. It's not an everyday occurrence, this spell."

"Yeah. My mother filled me in, sort of. Or at least she told me Elphaba did a spell to save me and it ended up with me better, and her worse."

"Yes. That's is the gist of it, I suppose."

That calm, almost flippant tone of voice drove him mad. These were people's lives. How could she be so indifferent?

"Why did you give her that spell?"

"You were very hurt, Master Tiggular. Had she not done what she did, you would not be with us today."

"Yeah, I sort of gathered that. I knew what I was doing."

Giving up his life so that she would live had been the whole point.

"No one who does anything out of desperation ever does."

He didn't argue with that because he didn't know how to.

"So neither did she then?"

"Of course not. The girl wouldn't listen to reason. All she was concerned about was getting a spell that would return you to this world."

He noted, though he couldn't say why, that she didn't say 'return to her'.

"So what exactly happened?"

She sighed, deeply. It pissed him off immensely.

"She did a spell that healed you. Isn't that enough?"

He didn't like this woman.

"No. Why did it hurt her?"

"Because magic, especially of the darker kind, the more powerful kind, always comes with a price. She wanted nothing short of bringing you back from the dead. As I told her, that's not possible, but you weren't dead. Just badly, severely, injured. To heal that means to alter the world, in a way. Turning back time is not an option because it would reverse everything else and you can't simply speak a few words and have your injuries melt away."

"So her being hurt was the price?"

"It sounds awfully trite, if you put it that way. You healed because she took away your pain, by accepting it herself."

That would explain it. Sort of.

"So we traded places?"

"Again, so trite. But yes, in a manner of speaking."

"But...I saw her. I could feel her. It was as if I was in her shoes, in her life. I could see her life. Memories, I think."

"Yes. I suspected you would. I warned her about that."

"So how did that happen? Is it because she changed places with me? Did she see me too then?"

"I would venture so, yes. In order for her to do what she did, her soul had to connect to yours."

It made sense, in the kind of way that didn't.

"So how does that work?"

"Well, the person to figure that out would make history, Master Tiggular. There are many theories."

"What's yours?"

She looked back at Elphaba, then at him and when she spoke her voice was gentler than he'd ever heard it.

"I believe that some things touch your life, in a deeper and more profound way than most. These things touch your soul, scar them if you will. And I don't mean that in a bad way. There are positive and negative experiences in a human life that change the way we live, who we are at the core. Those things alter you. I suppose meeting Elphaba has done that for you. She changed you and in doing so, she touched your soul. If someone were to take it, and hold it up against the light, they would see your parents, probably, other people that had a great influence, that changed the way you think, the way you view life and live yours."

He could almost understand what she meant. And he could agree with it too. At least where Elphaba was concerned.

"So that's a soul mate?"

She shook her head and smiled softly. It wasn't something he'd ever expected to see on her face and it made her seem young and old at the same time.

"Oh, I don't know about that term. I wouldn't dare to go as far as touch that subject or claim to hold valuable opinions on the matter. But the soul is a fascinating and endlessly mysterious thing. It is, I believe, who we are. and those that manage to touch it, to become a part of it, they change who you are forever."

Her voice grew softer, as if she was moving away from him. He'd been looking at Elphaba the whole time, lying too still and too small in a bed too huge. He'd half expected Yackle to be staring far off into the distance. When he sneaked a glance at her, however, he found her eyes focused on him.

"We are shaped and fashioned by what we love, aren't we, Mr Tiggular?"

He had the feeling there was a correct answer to that question somewhere, but he didn't have it.

"I guess."

She smiled again. Still soft but wider. She seemed satisfied.

"So do I. And that's the best we can do."

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><p>Nessa's funeral had been a sober one. Glinda had been the only one there. Somehow, she'd expected Boq to be there but he hadn't been. Nessa had died by Morrible's hands, Glinda was sure enough of that to bet her inheritance on it, and she hadn't deserved to die as a means to an end. She'd died so that Morrible would have a chance to kill her sister too. The irony of that, after trying so hard not to be associated with Elphaba ever again, was not entirely lost on Glinda.<p>

She wished now that she'd visited more often. That she'd been a better friend. But then she reminded herself that she and Nessa had never really been friends in the first place. And when Elphaba had disappeared, and Nessa had done everything in her power not to be associated with her sister, Glinda had been too angry, too sad, too disappointed, to invest much time in the younger Thropp.

She'd still seen her at times; Social functions demanded patience and the ability to hide dislike behind affected smiles and Glinda had always been good at that. Fiyero desirably less so, it turned out. He didn't like Nessa, resented her for abandoning her sister and saying all she said about her, and had never bothered to hide it.

Glinda could never really blame him because, behind her smiles and attempts to care, she felt the same way.

Still. To have no one at your funeral...

Elphaba would have been there, had she been able to. Glinda knew that and she wasn't surprised not to see her. She also knew that if Elphaba had been there, then Fiyero would have been too, and she was secretly glad to find them missing. She wanted them to be happy and she would do anything in her limited power to ensure their safety. Anything she could do to help them stay out of the hands of Morrible and the Wizard, she would do. But to see them together, a couple, a unity. To see her former almost-fiance holding hands with her best friend...

She wasn't sure she could handle that yet. And she wanted to be good, she wanted to help them. But it was best, for all of them, that she did it from a safe distance. She couldn't trust herself yet, to not let her emotions run her. To see them together, to be faced with the undeniable truth of what had happened between the three of them...it was a test Glinda was not ready for.

But..._but_...as much as that would have hurt, she still thinks she would have preferred it. Because at least she'd see them in one piece. At least she'd know they were alive.

Now, she didn't know anything. They could be anywhere. They could be dead. She'd heard that Fiyero had been dragged off to the cornfields. The news that their former Captain had committed treason to help the Witch escape had made its way to the Ozians too quickly to stop it, and they had cheered as it reached them that he'd been arrested, been punished for his crime. The news that he was no longer where the Gale Force had left him to die, was even greater news.

She hoped it had been Elphie. She hoped he'd been saved, but she couldn't be sure.

And she had not the slightest clue as to what Morrible and the Wizard were up to. She only knew it wouldn't be anything good.

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><p>For the second time in less than a month, Fiyero sat by a bed and watched her, hoping she'd wake up soon, knowing that she <em>would<em> be fine, but wasn't right now.

His head still reeled from what he'd seen.

Yackle had explained to him what had happened, the spell Elphaba had done to save him. How it came to be that he'd seen so much of her. He'd understood about half of what she'd said and even that part he wasn't sure about.

His soul had connected to hers, she'd said, and that was why he'd seen what he'd seen.

He'd never really believed in soul-mates, and he wasn't sure he did now, but he figured that if it was a real thing, they were as close to it now as they'd ever be.

She did love him.

She'd told him so, of course, and she wouldn't lie about it. But now, he saw what that meant. For her. To her. She'd never learned to love, to be loved. She was still, without a single doubt, the strongest woman that he'd ever know, and there would always be something ethereal and other-worldly about her, but she'd always been a girl, as well. A hurt and deeply lonely girl.

No more.

He felt the determination of his resolution set in the back of his head, even he was only half awake.

No more. He would take care of her.

She was _his_ girl now, after all. She wouldn't be lonely again.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Review? Please? Pretty please? A reward will appear in the form of a new chapter (either monday or tuesday). <strong>

**("We are shaped and fashioned by what we love" is Goethe's wisdom, by the way. Not mine :P)**

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	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26.**

**A/N Not done quite yet. A little more drama is needed, but here is the calm before the storm :P**

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><p>She didn't want to wake up. Waking up would mean opening her eyes and she wasn't ready to open her eyes.<p>

She was awake though, sort of.

Almost.

She'd known that spell would take it out of her. She had no way of telling how long she'd been unconscious but she did know she'd been out of it long enough to rest. Her mind was clear, even if every single part of her body hurt.

It was too much.

Yackle had warned her, of course, but the only thing she'd really heard was that Fiyero would see _her._

She'd decided quickly enough that it didn't matter as long as it helped him. She wasn't sure how souls connected, hadn't even been sure she had one, or how it had anything to do with what would happen between them, but whatever it was and however it worked, if it saved him, it would be worth it.

If whatever he saw was enough to make him realize she wasn't what he wanted, then so be it.

It would hurt, she would hurt, but she'd long ago agreed with her own theory that she was not and would never be that girl and she was prepared to live with that. _Had _lived with that. As long as he was alive and healthy and happy she would do it again.

She'd stepped into it, prepared to live with whatever the consequences were.

What she had not prepared for was that she would get to see _him._

And she had.

And she'd never forget even a glimpse of it.

Images of his childhood, his sisters, his parents. Being told off by nannies for stealing cookies from the kitchen and falling off the roof of one of the stables after trying to prove he could be a superhero.

Social functions and charity events. Parties and dates and drunken escapades.

So many different girls, though not one with a clear face.

Being kicked out of university. once, twice, thrice...they all became the same, those speeches, his father's angry words and disappointed face. It was all the same.

Her own face, in a flash, as she yelled at him for running her over.

Meeting Galinda and being content and satisfied with a girl like that in a place like this and how happy his parents would be with a match that perfect.

Seeing her entering the Ozdust with a hat he could not believe. The mortification he felt for her, coupled with admiration. She'd marvelled at that. Admiration. She would not have bet on admiration from him at that moment. All she'd felt was humiliation.

His astonishment at what she'd done to the class and the way his heart skipped a beat when he'd felt her hand clasp his. The way he kept looking at her lips and felt himself leaning in until he'd remembered himself, remembered Galinda.

The confusion he'd felt from then on, as he'd picked his girlfriend up for dates, leaned in to kiss the blonde, his eyes pulled to her dark-haired room mate.

The anger and resentment he'd felt as Avaric and more guys she couldn't immediately remember the name of, said things about her. Mean things but true things. She'd never known how much Avaric hated her, until now. Everyone had something to say about her, most of them had thrown a few unflattering nicknames and curse words her way, but few had so violently disliked her as Avaric.

The tenderness in him as she stared at him from across the table and asked him if they were friends. Asking for reassurance. She remembered that evening. She remembered being afraid he'd find out her true feelings.

The realization that he was in love with her, that almost made him stop in his tracks.

His heartbreak as Galinda got off that train without her. If she had known, back then, the pain he felt at not seeing her return, she would have followed her instinct and gone back to Shiz. Maybe.

His determination to find her. His sadness, frustration and hopelessness as he didn't.

Glimpses of evenings spent in the dark, drink in hand, staring up at the sky, hoping against hope to see her. She'd never known, had never suspected, that he missed her so terribly.

The panic in his chest as he stood in front of Yackle and heard her confirm what he wanted and feared the most.

The way his heart actually stopped beating for a moment as he heard her voice and turned to face her. The fear that took over. He'd been afraid of her. Of not finding what he was looking for, now that he'd found what he'd been searching for. Of telling her what he wanted to tell her.

His heart leaped and thudded back into place as his lips moved against hers and she, finally, kissed him back.

The desperation as the soldier boy aimed that gun at her.

The dizziness at their escape per broom. Exhilaration at her hair in his face, her waist in his hands.

Awe as he pulled her dress off her and laid her back down. She'd been so afraid of that moment. If she'd been able to feel then what _he'd _felt, she wouldn't have been able to believe it. Love, so much of it, as he moved inside her and knew he'd been waiting for that for so long and that whatever came next was a price worth paying.

The sight of her on the floor, after she'd returned from her visit to Nessa, with a bullet in her leg.

The relief as she told him she loved him. _How could he ever have doubted that?_

His plea to his parents and terror that they wouldn't believe him, that they'd betray her, that he'd lose her.

The moment those soldiers had marched into her fight with Glinda and arrested her. How effortless and doubt-free his decision to save her had been. How his heart broke a little as he had to hurt the beautiful blonde to do so. The pang of regret that what he'd felt for Glinda was real but never enough.

She'd been a witness to it all, been in his shoes, and she could not deny any longer, never again, that he'd meant every word. He loved her, and loved her way too much.

But even as she told herself he'd still be better off without her, even as she convinced herself that being with her would kill him...even as she knew these things to be true...the warmth that spread through her at remembering his memories, was a sensation wholly unfamiliar and thoroughly addictive.

It was why she didn't want to open her eyes and face the reality.

She didn't want the reality.

She wanted to stay in this soft bed, wrapped in blankets with the feeling of his hand around hers, warm and steady.

This cocoon she was in, where she felt loved and warm and safe, was new to her. And she wanted to stay in it forever.

* * *

><p>Drakin fussed over her.<p>

Fiyero was rather surprised to see it. The man had always taken excellent care of those that needed it, and the prince knew he'd done no less for Elphaba during her stay and her recovery, but he had never known that Drakin _cared_for Elphaba.

But he genuinely seemed to. He spent a lot of time in the room with her. He kept replacing the jug of water by her bedside, even though it hadn't been touched. He straightened the sheets, put fresh flowers on the nightstand.

Elphaba would hate it.

It made Fiyero smile because surely Drakin knew that.

"She'd smack you over the head if she were awake."

"She would do nothing of the sort. Though I must say, my job has never been easier."

He felt bad at that, clearly, because he rushed to add that he much preferred her awake, "snarly and impolite as she may be."

"Me too."

He glanced over at the man that had taken care of him when he'd been sick, had treated scraped knees and bloody noses. Watched as he now did the same for the green woman that had been thrust into his care without any explanation.

"So you like her then?"

The older man looked up at him. He was silent for a moment as he contemplated his answer.

"I must say, Master Fiyero...I never would have expected you to bring home someone like Miss Elphaba."

Fiyero smirked.

"Miss Elphaba...she must love that."

"She does not care for it. But when I asked her what to call her, her answer was that everyone called her the Wicked Witch of the West and that I was free to use that name."

"She would say that, yes."

A fresh glass replaced the unused one on the bedside table.

"I've found it works best to ignore her protests, as opposed to acknowledging them. It's much quicker."

"It really is, isn't it?"

They shared a smile and Fiyero wondered for a fleeting moment if ever in Elphaba's life people had met eyes and smiled over her, in shared concern and love.

"So you do like her?"

"I do. Don't misunderstand me, Master Fiyero. I liked Miss Glinda very much."

"I can tell there is a 'but' at the end of that sentence."

"Miss Elphaba is a better fit for you, I believe."

Fiyero believed that too, but he was still interested to know that other people could feel that way.

"How is that?"

"You seem happier. More importantly, you seem to be comfortable with who you are, and comfortable with who you love. You can't do better than that."

Fiyero nodded.

"I didn't know you cared about her this much."

A bowl of grapes was placed next to the water. Fiyero smiled but didn't say anything. He appreciated Drakin's trouble and concern. It was a relief not to have to explain, to share it with someone else.

"Neither did I. She's a stubborn young thing. She thinks she knows everything. She's terribly cynical. It's not flattering."

"Another 'but'?"

The older man didn't pause his movements as he pulled at the sheets in a useless attempt to straighten them.

"I had my doubts about it all, but years of working for your parents meant that I needed to at least give their choices the benefit of the doubt. And after a few days, I had to notice that she was nervous and uncomfortable at being here. She didn't want to be here at all. But she was here and she stayed, risking being turned in, because she loves you. I needed to give _her _a chance as well. I guess it was hard to not see it, after that."

"See what?"

A sad look passed over Drakin's face.

"She simply wasn't loved enough. And as a father, I can not imagine not loving your child. Yet, she wasn't. Not that she's said a word about it. It's merely a suspicion."

"A good one. Her father...well, he's dead now, but I would have liked a few minutes in a locked room with him."

"Yes, I imagine you would."

He straightened the sheets one more time and smiled down at his patient.

"There's hope for her yet, though."

Fiyero looked at the woman in question. A green face on a white pillow, softer in sleep than it was at any other time.

"Yes, there is."

* * *

><p>She opened her eyes. There wasn't a choice, in the end. She'd have to wake up sometime and she was never one to put off the inevitable.<p>

She found herself staring at a white ceiling. Then, her eyes sweeping the room, she took in the flowers on the nightstand, the open window, the robe on the back of the door, the crisp white linens and the head resting on the bed, near her hands.

She was relieved to find him there. After everything that had happened.

"Hi."

Her voice was hoarse and it made her wonder how long she'd been in that cocoon.

The head moved. Blinking sleep from from his eyes, Fiyero looked up and smiled. It was the same smile he gave her in the morning, sweet and warm, as if waking up next to her was enough to make his day.

"Hey."

His voice was raspy too. What a pair they made.

He reached for the water next to him and handed her a glass.

"Welcome back."

She took the glass and brought it to her lips.

"How long did I sleep for?"

"Four days. You didn't stir."

He didn't need to add how that had worried him, kept him from sleep, as he sat at her bedside.

"Have you been here the whole time?"

"Where else would I be?"

_What else would I be doing but look for you?_

She did not deserve this man. No one did.

"It worked then? You seem better."

"I am. I'm even better now though."

He looked at her, taking in her sallow face, her tired eyes. He sighed. He didn't want to start this, but he couldn't keep it in.

"I can't say I'm happy about what you did, but I'm grateful."

She didn't answer.

"But Elphaba...Don't ever do that again."

She smiled but it was strained. She wouldn't make such a promise.

"I hope I'll never have to again. Actually, I intend to make sure of that."

He didn't want to know what she meant by that.

"Drakin has been here, fluffing pillows and all that. He was worried. I'm not sure how you did it but the man adores you."

"The men in this castle are fools. I'm starting to suspect there's something amiss with the water supply."

He chuckled. He'd missed her. She'd been right there but he'd missed her.

"I'm glad to see you're still you."

"Unfortunately, I always will be."

"I really hope that's true."

"You're a fool."

"Yeah, I know. Unfortunately, I always will be."

She grinned.

"Unfortunately."

He feigned hurt.

"I'll go get Drakin then, shall I? Tell him you want your pillows fluffed."

That earned him a grimace.

"Please don't."

"Then be sweeter. I have all the power here."

"You wish."

He kissed her cheek and, unwilling to break contact, her nose, her forehead and her hands.

"I'll let Drakin know you're up. He's been pacing."

She rolled her eyes and watched him head for the door with regret.

"Fiyero?"

He paused at the doorway and looked back at her.

"I'm glad to see you too."

She didn't say anything else and he didn't answer, just smiled and winked before disappearing. They didn't need to talk about what had happened, what they'd experienced. It was done and they knew their place in each other's lives. Maybe it wouldn't be enough but it was enough for now.

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><p><strong>I am actually considering flying to London to see Rachel Tucker's last show. That's insane, right? Especially since London is ridiculously expensive. Fun fact is that she'll be replaced by her former Glinda :) How awesome must it be to have played both Elphaba and Glinda...<strong>

**Aside from that; please review? I know it's the summertime and all we want is to be lazy, but I would appreciate it enormously! **


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

**A/N Thank you to those who reviewed! Dorothy inWonderland and Wicked Is My Life; thanks for the catch-up reviews! It's very very much appreciated!**

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><p>Something had changed within her.<p>

She loved him. She loved him and he loved her back.

It made her...different.

There was a sense of calm and peace within her now, that she'd never known before.

She was still in bed, accepting, finally, that even vehement protest would not convince Drakin to let her get up. Not that, in all honesty, she'd be able to. Yackle hadn't been lying when she'd said that Fiyero would heal by what she gave to and took from him and the guards hadn't spared him. Every part of her body hurt. Every ounce of energy gone. Her mind was exhausted, her body spent. Strangely, the pain helped. What she'd done, she'd done with good reason.

Fiyero, despite not being in great shape yet himself, had been by her side the whole time. But he'd lost sleep while she caught up on it and he hadn't been able to keep his eyes open now that she was awake and he'd seen with his own eyes she would be okay.

Without thinking, she'd moved over a little on the bed to make room for him and motioned for him to lie down. He'd raised his eyebrows, surprised at her gesture, but he'd lain down next to her and been asleep, his head on her stomach, in minutes.

It hurt, the weight adding pain to what was already sore, but she couldn't bring herself to move. She couldn't stop staring at him.

If someone had told her a few years, a few months, a few _weeks_, ago that she'd be in this situation, in this bed, with Fiyero Tiggular, she'd have snorted. And been angry, probably.

She'd never wished for it because it had been so ridiculously beyond possible that she didn't see the point in wishing, but she'd dreamed about it. She'd dreamed about it so often, waking up annoyed and frustrated with herself for wanting things she knew she'd never have.

And now, here she was.

And she had it.

He loved her. She could no longer deny it. He loved her as much as she loved him. He'd left everything behind, just to be with her. He didn't see the ugly, the distortion, the flaws, when he looked at her. He really didn't. Her head still reeled from that knowledge but it had also made her lighter. Before, a part of her had still believed, even after all his wonderful words and loving gestures, that he was overdoing it. That he did see what she saw, but he was kind enough to call her beautiful. Kind enough to love her, despite his better judgment.

He'd been ready to die for her. Fiyero Tiggular. He'd swung in on that rope to save her, ready to pay for her life with his. She couldn't think of any universe where that would make sense but it had happened.

He deserved so much more than her. So much better.

But that wasn't the scariest part. The scariest, most terrifying part was that she...she wanted this. This. Right here. She wanted to lie here, next to him, his head on her stomach, his breath on her skin. She wanted to sleep beside him as they had the nights before, with his arm wrapped around her and wake up next to him, their legs entwined. She wanted to be with him till they day she died. With him, through him, because of him, she wanted things she'd never wanted before. Had never thought about before. Never had and never would have, until him.

He kept talking, his parents kept talking, even Drakin, about how she had changed him. About how he had changed because of her. But no one mentioned, because they didn't have an inkling, of how much _he _had changed_ her._ What he'd meant to her life, what he'd done.

She moved down a little on the bed so they were face to face and took in every little detail of his face. She'd seen it in dreams so often, and now here it was, beside her on the pillow.

"Thank you."

She whispered the words, hoping it wouldn't wake him and brushed her lips across his cheek. She felt silly and embarrassed. Awkward. But she needed to say the words, even if he'd never know she'd said them.

He moved a little, made sleepy murmuring noises.

"Hmmz?"

"Ssh. Go back to sleep."

"Whaddid ya say?"

"Nothing. Go back to sleep."

"What were you thanking me for?"

He was still half asleep, his eyes still closed.

"For everything." _For loving me. _

He shook his head and pulled her closer, his face hidden in her neck.

"Crazy woman."

His nose and lips pressed against her skin.

"I love you. Now you sleep too."

She couldn't suppress the smile. Maybe, for this moment, she could enjoy her cocoon for a little bit longer.

Just for this moment.

* * *

><p>Keegan felt guilty.<p>

He didn't like it.

Glinda had come to see him again. This time to extract a promise not to say anything about_ anything_ if Morrible came to see him.

She'd stood before him, dwarfed by his height but completely unintimidated and as beauiful as ever. He'd marvelled at how she always managed to look radiant. Glinda the Good, he'd decided, was spring-became-summer in a sparkling dress. He couldn't _not_ be impressed by her.

He was, and he'd voiced that out loud, utterly impressed. He was also adamant that she'd brought nothing but trouble to his life and he'd refused to make a promise like that, leaving her huffing out the door.

He'd felt strangely guilty about disappointing her but the helpless anger he felt at her presumption that he would do as she said was stronger.

Not that it had mattered, in the end. She needn't have bothered because Morrible had never stopped by.

Keegan knew it was because she didn't need him. If Glinda had told the truth, then Morrible would know the truth too.

Either way; she hadn't come, so Keegan could have spared himself the torture of what he would tell her.

It made him annoyed with Glinda. Annoyed and maybe even angry. He'd been thinking about finding some way to let her know that.

And then the news had come. The Governor of Munchkinland was dead. Killed in a strange accident. The Witch's sister. And the Witch, in some sort of struggle with Glinda the Good, who had skillfully lured her into a trap, had been arrested. After all those years, the Guards had finally had their hands on the terrorist they'd hunted for.

And then the Captain had swung in and saved her. He'd pointed a rifle at Glinda the Good and bought the Witch's freedom.

He'd paid for it with his life, or so they'd said.

They'd celebrated. His fellow men coming in to see him, congratulating him with slaps on the shoulder, reassuring him with inappropriate jokes, expecting him to celebrate with them.

He had smiled and cheered best he could and spent the time laughing at jokes he didn't think were funny and wondering all the while about what had really happened. Because if everything up till then had been a lie, then this too would be one. There would be more to the story than any of them knew.

Before he'd been able to find a way to ask Glinda, however, more news had come. The Captain had disappeared from where they'd left him. They'd left him to die and suffer the shame and now he was gone.

Everyone in the city seemed to be talking about it. Where had he gone? How had he survived? Who had taken him down from that pole? He'd been left as good as dead. Could the Witch be so arrogant as to come back to where they had caught her? Could she be so powerful as to bring a man back from the dead? They didn't want to believe it.

But again, Keegan wondered about the truth. Because...if Glinda had told the truth...if they loved each other...it all made sense, didn't it? If they loved each other, then would it not be understandable for the Captain to save her from sure execution? Being arrested would lead to her death within 24 hours, no doubt about it. So of course Fiyero would save her. And if she loved him back, then wasn't it to be expected that she, a powerful witch, would come and get him?

Keegan, for a change, didn't know. He hadn't been re-installed. Not only because everyone assumed he needed more time to recover from his ordeal with the Witch, but also because he'd stopped asking. Since Glinda's visit, since learning what he now believed to be the truth (even if he'd tried very hard not to believe it), he'd lost any sense of direction.

Going back to work, back to the Gale Force, knowing what he knew...he wasn't sure he was up to it. He had too many questions. Questions he wouldn't be able to ask, but would before long. How could he trust any new Captain now? How could he listen to his instructions, to what new recruits were told about the Witch, when he knew it was different?

He didn't want to. He _couldn't_ want to.

He'd seriously considered burning his uniform, giving his notice and moving back home. He'd be happy to see his parents, his sisters. Maybe Susie from across the street wouldn't be dating anyone new. The thought appealed to him and he thought about it every day.

But he didn't go.

Because even if he went home, took up his place in his father's business and married Susie, he wouldn't forget. He'd still wonder about the truth. He'd still want to know.

In the end, that's what it came down to. That's the only thing he did know; he wanted to know the truth. If he had been lied to his whole adult life, he wanted to know.

So when the news came that Fiyero had disappeared, he'd checked himself out, went straight up the interim-Captain's office and told him that, come heaven or hell, he was going back to work.

He should have been there when his fellow soldiers had rushed to Glinda's side. He should have been there as they arrested Fiyero and convicted him for treason. Even if he hadn't been able to do anything, because he would never have been able to do anything (and honestly, he wasn't even sure he wanted to) but he should have been there.

And as long as he was confused about where to stand and where to go, he might as well be in the thick of it. That way, maybe he'd be able to gather some more information. Maybe he'd find out more about the Witch, Morrible, the Wizard. And maybe he'd be able to get word to Glinda.

Somehow, she was his only link to the truth, what was left of it, and he needed her.

He needed to know the truth. And he would get it.

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><p>She was reading up on spells, preparing for what needed to be done, while she asked him questions about the lay-out of the castle and the security measurements. He answered them, with reluctance because he hated her putting herself in danger <em>again<em>, but without complaints.

Yackle was still around the castle, somewhere, but the woman came and went without giving or taking much notice of anyone. She'd come to see Elphaba while she'd been unconscious, or so Fiyero had told her, but Elphaba hadn't seen her since waking up. It wouldn't have bothered her, if she hadn't needed her. She had questions about some spells. She'd never asked many questions, had always been able to figure out what she needed to know without too much effort but the Grimmerie was still a mystery to her more often than not, and she couldn't afford to take any risks.

This time, it had to be waterproof. She had one plan, one shot, one chance.

Fiyero was helping her, in a manner of speaking, but she knew he did it against his better judgment and it made his answers clipped and careful. Afraid to give too much away, afraid of making it seem too easy, afraid it would result in her taking bigger risks.

Regardless, he answered each of her questions, lying back against the foot of the bed, a pillow in his back, drawing circles on the sole of her left foot.

It was this fact that pointed out to her, once more, how much she'd changed. Inside. Her heart had transformed. She was planning an attack on the man she hated, truly hated and she was anxious, angry and scared, despite her determination. But with it, there was something new. It was the strange and unfamiliar feeling of confidence. Of knowing she was loved.

It irked her.

She loved the feeling of his fingers on her feet, and of his feet tickling her side. She loved the closeness, the intimacy. It made them almost...normal.

But they weren't.

And _she_ wasn't.

She was planning an attack on the ruler of their country. She wasn't normal and she never would be.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Review? <strong>


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28.**

**A/N Thank you for the reviews. You are fantastic people. You really are. And..Wicked Is My Life...you planted a seed...I'll see what I can do for Frex...**

**If anyone else has any requests for after Skin Deep...feel free to ask :)**

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><p>She would have thought they'd hate her. Or blame her, at least. Hold her responsible for what had happened to their son. He'd almost been killed. Would have been dead now, if that spell hadn't worked. Surely, as his parents, they'd hate her.<p>

They wouldn't be thanking her for saving his life.

Yet they were. They'd come to see her, entering the room quietly and demure. Raina first, delicate steps into the room, her husband striding in after her. They'd taken a good look at her, sat down by her bedside and thanked her.

She had no clue what to do with that.

Fiyero wasn't here, he'd gone off to do Oz knew what, and now she had to deal with gratitude. Gratitude from two of the very few people in the world who had a genuinely good reason to hate her.

"I don't understand. You do realize he almost died?"

She fought to get the words out, they hovered on her lips as if they knew they should not be spoken out loud.

Raina blinked at that but didn't comment on her harsh tone. Liir didn't even bat an eye.

"We do. Unfortunately, as both you and Fiyero have pointed out to me repeatedly, Fiyero is responsible for his own actions."

"But...he did that because of me."

Raina stepped in then.

"He did that _for_ you."

Yackle had made the same distinction.

"Why does everyone insist on focusing on that little detail? He was still almost dead because of me. They wanted to kill him. They left him to die._ I _did that. Not him. He didn't make the choice to die."

But he had and she knew it. And so did his parents. Just because she didn't like it, just because she couldn't live with it, didn't make it any less true.

"Because it makes all the difference." Raina said, "I don't like it, Elphaba. I don't like that my son insists on putting himself in danger. But you are not responsible for Fiyero's choices. He is."

"But..."

"I was there when you left, remember? I was there when you told him you didn't want him to come. That it was too dangerous. I won't linger on the fact that you shouldn't have gone either, I don't have that right. Either way; you didn't kill him."

"But you did save him."

Those words came from Liir and both women looked at him in surprise. He didn't see why. He spoke the truth.

"We were both here when you came back with him. You didn't waste time in doing whatever it was that you needed to do to save him."

"That wasn't some noble act, if that is what you've deluded yourselves into believing."

Liir directed a stern look at her, full of disapproval.

"I am not deluding myself into anything, young lady. And mind your words."

She looked at him, unable to hide her surprise. Not at his annoyance at being spoken to like that, but at the way he spoke to her. He admonished her as he would anyone else. _Young lady_...she almost laughed at that.

She took a minute to calm down. The way she viewed what she had done did not match up to how they did, but they'd come with good intentions. They were good people who loved their son and, through that, tried to care for her. She could appreciate the effort, even if she didn't understand or need it.

"I am sorry for what happened. And I am glad the spell worked. It was a risk. One that I would have taken with or without your approval." She looked at them and they looked back. "But I realize that I cared too little for the consequences to explain it to you first when I probably should have."

It wasn't an apology, because she didn't regret what she'd done or how she'd done it, but it was an acknowledgment of them, of their role in her life as Fiyero's parents.

Liir was about to say something, so was Raina, judging by their expressions, but they didn't get the chance. Fiyero came in then, carrying a letter.

"The Wizard is sorry to inform you I'm dead."

The other three people in the room looked up, their expressions varying from confusion to shock to anger.

"What?"

The same word from three mouths. Fiyero smirked.

"Yup. My body seems to be temporarily misplaced but they're pretty sure I'm dead. Or so they hope, though they didn't put that part in the letter."

He made his way over to them and took a seat at the foot end of Elphaba's bed. He handed his father the letter, who took it and read it with a frown on his face that deepened as he progressed.

It was indeed a message from the Emerald City for the King and Queen of the Vinkus. It informed them of the, suspected, untimely death of their son. It didn't speak of the circumstances, of Glinda, or the Gale Force. It did speak of the Witch.

The Wizard, it read solemnly, was very sorry to inform them that their son was suspected of treason and alliances with The Wicked Witch of the West and had, therefore, been convicted and justly punished. It didn't say that Fiyero's body had disappeared within an hour of leaving him behind to die.

It also said that they had, of course, planned to grant his parents the chance to bury their son according to the Vinkun customs but the Witch was suspected of robbing them of that chance by taking his body. The Wizard sent his sincere condolences and wishes for them to be able to overcome this tragedy, both for them and for their Kingdom.

It also mentioned subtly that, should the Witch or their son attempt to contact The King and Queen in anyway, they would, of course, be expected to honor the law and send word to the Emerald City.

Liir frowned, Raina laughed and Fiyero shrugged.

Elphaba, however, was livid.

Within minutes, she was out of bed. The other three too startled at her anger and her movement to do anything but stare. Fiyero was the first to recover, knowing he should not be as surprised as he was. Of course she'd be angry. It was the Wizard and this was yet another example of his despicable nature.

"Elphaba."

"Don't Fiyero."

She threw him a sharp look, anger overriding everything else.

"Don't."

He disregarded it, the way he often had.

"I know you're angry."

She huffed in answer.

"There is no point in flying off the handle over this right now."

She kept moving, taking large steps, her arms moving. Everything moved, agitation rolling off her in waves.

"Of course there isn't. There never is. This is just another thing he will get away with."

"Elphaba."

Lirr stepped forward. Again, it surprised the people around him. Again, he didn't see why.

"Elphaba. I understand you're not pleased. Neither are we. But this is not the thing to focus on."

She turned to face him but before she could retort, Raina had gotten to her feet as well.

"Elphaba. We know that what that letter says isn't the truth."

The green woman grimaced a smile, willing herself not to lose her patience with Fiyero's parents, who had been more than kind to her when she'd least deserved it.

"That's not the point. My reputation is not what I'm worried about. They could tell the world I eat dead babies for breakfast and they'd believe it, they're so stupid. That isn't the point."

"Then what is?"

"I can not let him get away with this. Not with any of it. He won't stop. He'll never stop. He rules this land with the power of lies. I can't..."

She avoided everyone's eyes as she moved towards the door.

"I _won't_."

As she fled the room, Fiyero looked at his parents.

"I probably should have seen this coming."

Raina and Liir exchanged a look.

"Do you want us to..."

Fiyero was grateful for their willingness to help, for how understanding and patient they'd been, but shook his head in answer.

"No...no..this one I'll do alone."

She was up in their room, shoving the Grimmerie into her bag, along with her hat. Fiyero grabbed her cloak before she could.

"You can't just up and leave, Elphaba."

She made a move towards him, reaching for the black fabric in his hands, but he was faster.

"And if I do? If you can't deal with it, Fiyero.." and her tone was once again the one he hated. She was too far gone now, for him to reach, "then you shouldn't have come. You can still get out."

It was almost a challenge. A dare.

Daring him to back out.

He wouldn't rise to it.

"Nothing will make me leave, Elphaba."

He was tired, there were circles under his eyes, his shoulders hurt, but he let the truth ring home.

"Nothing can make me leave. I am just..." He sighed then, deeply, because he really was so tired, and he wanted just a moment. Just a moment, with the woman he loved.

"I am asking you to wait a little. Not long. Not too long. Just...a little."

She looked at him then, at the circles under his eyes, the tension in his back, in his posture, and she knew that she was the cause of that. She was doing this to him. This is what he got for loving her.

She could feel it in her blood, the urge to go anyway, to ignore him, forget him, to run.

But she also felt, in her whole body, that she loved him too, and she didn't want to lose him. She didn't want to turn away. She wanted to want to, but she didn't want to.

She had been alone for so long, all her life really, with the exception of her brief time at Shiz. She'd never had anyone, and she hadn't been expecting that to change. She'd been expecting to remain alone, until the day she died.

Memories of her friendship with Galinda, her moments with Fiyero, it had become nearly enough. Enough to remind her of what she was fighting for. Enough to make her cry sometimes, when the loneliness set in and she simply missed them too much. But it had been enough. She was alone and it was enough.

But now, she wasn't alone any more. Fiyero was with her. He'd searched for her and he'd said goodbye to all he knew, and he'd come with her. She wasn't alone any more and she was loved.

And this was the price she paid for that.

She set her broom back down and he eyed her, warily and carefully, not willing to get his hopes up.

She dropped her bag on the floor and walked over to him. She took his hand and brought it to her face, kissed his fingertips and watched his face change, his heart so openly displayed there.

"Not too long."

He nodded and wrapped her in his arms. She buried her face in his chest and thought that maybe she'd make it.

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><p>She didn't.<p>

She didn't want to hurt him, but what she wanted didn't matter. She had to go. Knowing that the Wizard, that Morrible, were still the ones in power, using everything they had to keep it that way. it kept her from sleep.

She'd fought for the Animals and their rights, that's how it had started. But now, it was about more than that. Nessa's death, Glinda's betrayal, Fiyero...

That stupid letter, no matter the intentions with which it had been sent...she knew that letter wasn't what she was so enraged about. It was just what had set her off.

So many things had happened lately, too many things, that had distracted her from what she'd been doing until Fiyero had come back into her life. And then Nessa had died, and she'd fought with Glinda...and then that spell...

But her fight against the Wizard, even when fought in hiding and underground, had been what her life had revolved around. And that had never stopped.

Fiyero's presence in her life, her relationship with him ( because she could no longer deny that that's what it was...or would be...or had been..), it had changed her. It had changed her life. But it hadn't changed the world. It hadn't changed the Wizard. And it hadn't changed what needed changing.

This letter had just reminded her of that. In that respect, she supposed, it was good that it had come.

She still had things to do. Things she needed to do. Even if there were other things she wanted now, too.

But it was harder than she'd expected. And she hadn't expected it to be easy. Lying next to him in bed, listening to his deep breathing, knowing that she wouldn't sleep a single night if she didn't at least try to attempt this, but also knowing that she wouldn't be able to look Fiyero in the eye and tell him that she couldn't keep her promise, she'd come to only one possible conclusion; she had to leave immediately.

But now that she was about to...now that she was standing by the bed, looking down at his sleeping form, she could feel the strings that tethered her to him holding her back. Pulling her towards him. She had roots now, in a way. A home.

Those were things she'd never had before and it had made her life as a fugitive, as a resistance member, as a Witch, easier.

Now...

It was so much harder than she'd anticipated. She'd spent so much time thinking what it would do to him, that she'd glossed over what it would do to _her_. She hadn't expected this. To be honest, she'd still underestimated the hold he had on her. The power her love for him had over her.

She needed to go, she knew that as surely as she knew that she didn't _want_ to go. She hadn't foreseen, though, that want could be stronger than need. But it was. She was being pulled in two directions. She had to be true to herself, she had to go and fight this fight. It had made her who she was, it had been what she'd lived for the past three years. But as she stood by the bed, looking down at him, she comprehended, maybe for the first time, what it meant to love someone so much you were willing to give up all that had come before.

He looked so beautiful and so perfect and so peaceful. How he could sleep so peacefully after everything that had happened, she'd never understand.

"I'm so sorry, Fiyero. I don't deserve you. I never did. I'm sorry."

She let her face hover ever so close to his but she didn't touch him.

"I love you. I'm sorry."

And with those words, she was gone.

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><p><strong>It wasn't until NastElilBugger's latest chapter that I realized some of the similarities between her story and mine. I can guarantee you all it wasn't intentional. Skin Deep has been pretty much finished for a while now but maybe she inspired me without me noticing ;) <strong>

**In any case; she knows all about it and is awesome. If are among the few that hasn't read The Aberration. Go now! It's mesmerizing. **

**As for this story...Just a few more chapters...:)**

**Review, please, if you have the time. I would appreciate it very much!**


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29.**

**A/N Thanks for the reviews! I'm so glad you're still reading!**

**And dedicated to HC247...just because she's awesome. Hope that stale-as-old-toast reading is done now :P**

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><p>Drakin had woken him, minutes after she'd left.<p>

He'd marched straight into Yackle, who seemed, albeit less shocked, a little disorientated as well. She'd shaken her head and grimaced at him.

"I didn't think she'd go without telling you. Clearly, I was wrong."

He'd pushed past her without another word. He was angry at her too. _Wasn't she supposed to see everything?_ But she'd followed him into the kitchens, through the door and watched him saddle a horse when they'd reached the stables. Only then had she spoken.

"There are quicker ways to go about this. Though I should think you might reconsider, seeing as how she chose to go alone."

He'd ignored that too, not trusting himself to not take out his anger and fear on the old woman.

She'd moved to stand in front of him, his horse moving away from them as if it could smell trouble.

"Your former...love, shall we say? Miss Glinda? She has a bubble that flies, does she not? A parlor trick, but an effective one. That would be quicker than a horse."

He didn't want to look at, or talk to, her but he couldn't disregard the truth in her words. He'd glanced up with a blank look on his face.

"How am I supposed to get Glinda's bubble?"

She'd merely smiled and walked out of the stables and back to the palace. By the time he'd caught up with her, she'd been in the library, her eyes closed. He'd moved toward her but she had held up a hand and kept him at bay. A few minutes that felt like hours later she'd opened her eyes and told him it was done and now all they could do was wait.

He had expected to see ...well...something. Mists or howling sounds. Sparks or light or thunder. Whatever. Something. But nothing had appeared out of the ordinary.

Less than an hour later, her bubble landing gracefully, if painstakingly slowly, on the balcony, Glinda had walked into the room. She'd not said a word, simply stepped up to him and hugged him and he knew then that she would help him.

He'd never felt more guilty and more grateful towards the blonde.

He'd explained the situation best he could and she had, proving everyone who had ever thought her dense wrong, come up with something of a plan. He realized again how capable she was, how clever. They both knew the layout of the castle, and while he knew how the Guard operated, she knew exactly who occupied which room and which ones would be empty at what time. They really were a marvelous team.

His life could have been so simple, so effortless. If only he'd loved her enough. If only he hadn't fallen in love with that whirlwind of a green witch. He snorted at his own thoughts.

He seriously wondered how often this was going to happen. He shouldn't have surprised to wake up and find her gone, the window open. He shouldn't have been, but he was.

She'd promised him. She'd looked him in the eyes, she'd hugged him, and she'd promised him she'd wait.

She'd lied. She'd lied to his face and yet here he was, on his way to the Emerald City, because he didn't have a choice.

* * *

><p>How had it gotten to his?<p>

And why did her life consist of moments where she found herself in a situation the complete opposite of what she'd wanted, what she'd aimed for?

She should have listened to Drakin. He'd been up when she'd made her way down the steps. She'd opted not to use their window for fear it would wake Fiyero, but sneaking to the library meant risking being seen by others. Luckily, the only one to see her had been Drakin. Less luckily, being seen by Drakin meant being questioned. But he hadn't, his words simple and clear cut, no question marks included.

"_You know he'll be angry."_

"_At least, he'll be alive. Tell him I'm sorry if you have to."_

"_You also know he'll come after you."_

"_Then I won't need to tell you not to tell him where I've gone."_

"_He'll know."_

_She'd looked at him then._

"_It's better for everyone I do this now. Trust me."_

"_You're wrong."_

"_Better wrong than sorry."_

He'd shaken his head at her. As if he knew something she didn't and regretted that he couldn't make her see it.

She'd wanted to ask him what it was but she didn't.

And now here she was, thinking about that as she felt the net closing in on her, wishing she had asked him.

She was so angry with herself. She couldn't believe she'd fallen for it. She'd actually believed him.

He'd convinced her to join him. He really had, thoughts of Glinda and Fiyero and peace and a life in one place without being hunted had driven her to say yes. He was right, after all. He knew what she wanted and he'd played on it mercilessly.

And now, Dr Dillamond was Oz knew where and that snake of a man, that treacherous little viper, was calling for his guards.

Before she had time to escape, men in the familiar green uniforms stormed into the room. Within seconds all the guns in the room were pointed at her, the soldiers forming a circle around her.

She tried to count them, got to 5, and tried to gauge if this was a fight she could win. Her magic would suffice but there was only one way into the room, so there was only one way out, and that was blocked by a young man who held a shaking hand that slowly steadied as he looked at her.

He was the only one not trying to avoid her eyes, but trying to catch them.

The young soldier that had wanted to shoot her. The one Fiyero had shot to save her.

Her eyes lingered on him. A little boy with a fire arm. It was a dangerous combination. Especially now. Especially with him.

Him against her. Again. And this time, Fiyero wasn't here to save her from bullets.

For a moment, for one moment, she wished he was. She wished she'd let her other half, that other voice, give in. But she pushed the thought from her mind, knowing she'd give everything she had to make sure he never got hurt because of her again.

She glared at Keegan. Maybe if they were too afraid to move, she'd have a chance.

He almost cowered under her glare, but then steadied his hand and looked her straight in the eye. Before she could make a move, however, before any of them could, the door opened.

For a moment, she thought it would be more soldiers, making her chances of escape even smaller, but then she caught the glitter out of the corner of her eye.

Sparkles on a blue dress.

Blond hair with a tiara.

Glinda.

* * *

><p>Elphaba didn't have time to wonder <em>how and what and why<em> Glinda was there. She didn't get the chance to be amazed at that turn of the events because coming in right behind her best friend, was Fiyero.

_HOW in Oz..._

But she didn't have time for that either, as the two made their way further into the room and she could see the rifle that was pressed into Glinda's back.

_What...?_

"Let her go."

She looked at the guards that still stood circling her, their guns pointed at her. They looked bewildered and completely unsure of what to do. Their former captain with a weapon trained on Glinda the Good. To save the Witch.

Again. She wanted to look at Fiyero, she wanted to see his face, his eyes, but she didn't.

"Let. Her. Go."

He didn't have to add the rest of that threat. She couldn't believe them. How on earth would this ever work? He'd done this the last time and he'd let Glinda walk. They'd know, surely, they'd know that he would never hurt her?

But with no Captain in sight, with no one in their group to take the lead, they looked at each other, waiting for one of them to make the decision.

Glinda whimpered then and all their attention was on her.

"Just do it!"

Tears were gathering in her eyes and she was shaking. If Elphaba hadn't known better, she might have fallen for it too.

They dropped their guns. All but one.

Keegan.

He wasn't looking at Elphaba anymore though. His eyes were trained on Glinda. For what seemed like an eternity no one moved. No one made a sound. The guards were still in their spot, but they were weaponless and distracted and she thought that she would probably make it, granted she could get past Glinda and Fiyero, but she didn't try.

Her life was in the hands of Keegan now, for some reason. She couldn't quite grasp how it had gotten to that but she knew.

He hadn't done anything yet, though. He hadn't put his gun down but he hadn't moved either.

Everyone stared at him, his fellow soldiers clearly torn between admiration and anger, for he was the one that held the power now. He was the one that could determine what would happen next. And all this time, he was staring at Glinda.

Who stared back.

Elphaba didn't really want to know why that was. What she wanted now was to get out, safely, with Fiyero. Glinda, as much as she wanted to talk to her friend, would be alright. She was the victim here, after all; Fiyero's rifle still against her bare back. When Elphaba finally thought she couldn't just stand there any longer, Keegan dropped his gun. He let it clutter to the floor, his eyes not moving away from Glinda's face.

She wasn't sure what to do now, but she didn't have to come up with a plan because Fiyero moved forward then, pushing Glinda into the circle of guards, and grabbing for Elphaba's hand. She reached for his at the same time and they ran for the door.

She looked back to see Glinda being surrounded by helpful hands and, assured that, for now, her best friend would be okay, she ran.

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><p><strong>A short one, I know. It was the best cut-off point though. The next one will be much longer. Day after tomorrow :)<strong>


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30 **

**A/N Thank you so much for reviewing, guys! **

**And thanks to those that have already reviewed Gravitation. Amazing.**

**Now, as promised..**

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><p>Glinda sat on the edge of her bed and stared at nothing.<p>

The events of the evening racing through her mind, but only in the background. As a slide show, all pictures and no sounds, while her mind whirred and worried about other things. Working to get to conclusions that were just baby steps away.

She'd woken up from a dream that had turned out not to be a dream. An old woman she couldn't remember seeing ever before talking to her through glass and water, hazy and unclear, telling her her help was needed in the Vinkus. Fiyero's voice and Elphaba's face in distorted images. Fiyero's voice saying Elphaba's name in such a pleading manner it had scared Glinda to near-tears.

It hadn't been a dream.

She didn't know how she knew precisely but she knew enough of magic and trusted her own instincts enough to listen. She heeded their call and directed her bubble to the Vinkus.

She didn't want to go there. Not a single bone in her body wanted to go there.

She'd arrived to find Fiyero anxiously waiting for her. He'd hugged her, quickly but tightly and explained the situation in a clipped voice. The woman she'd seen in the dream that wasn't a dream had been there, taking over from Fiyero when he'd gotten too angry and too panicked to properly explain. He needed her help, was what it came down to.

A part of her, a part she hadn't expected to speak up in a moment like this, had wanted to say no. Had wanted to refuse his plea for help. He'd gone and he'd left her by herself to deal with everything alone and now, now that he needed help, now that Elphaba had gone, he needed her to come running.

She'd wanted to refuse. She'd wanted to tell him to find someone else. They would both have to find someone else from now on. She was done running.

But of course, she wouldn't. She would run, as long and as fast as she had to, because this was Elphie.

Elphie, who'd she'd said such horrible things to. No matter that she'd felt them at the time. She shouldn't have said them. She knew full well that Elphaba had not stolen Fiyero. She hadn't been the one to betray Glinda. She never would have. That, along with the love that she'd always feel for her best friend, was enough to make her run to her side.

That, and the niggling truth that had been in the back of her head since Fiyero had left, that Elphie loved the Prince more than Glinda did. And if it was hard on Glinda to be without him, then what had it been like for Elphie, who had been without him, without anyone, for years?

She never would have said a word to Fiyero about her feelings. Glinda knew her former room mate well enough to know that, and she would have lived maybe her whole life without being with the one she loved. The one who loved her.

Glinda didn't want to be responsible for that. She would never want to keep Elphaba from experiencing love. She so deserved it, now more than ever.

And now she was in danger.

So she'd gone. She was the only one who could help. Fiyero hadn't had a choice. They hadn't spoken much aside from that. She'd nodded and brought Fiyero back to the palace, careful not to let anyone see them. The fact that it was the middle of the night helped significantly. So did the fact they both knew the palace well enough to go about unseen.

They'd waited for Elphaba to arrive, sitting in Glinda's room, staring out the window, discussing strategy and plans for every letter of the alphabet.

In the end, when they were half convinced they'd missed Elphaba's entrance, they'd moved to wait outside the throne room, because they needed to be inside before Morrible could be, if it came to that. The Wizard held no power. They'd be able to take him out with minimal effort, but Morrible would be a problem. They'd heard the call for the guards, they'd watched as the men had rushed to the Wizard's aid.

Fiyero had wanted to rush in immediately, his thoughts on the woman who was bound to be inside, but Glinda had pulled him back, reminded him of their ridiculous plan and then pointed at his rifle. They'd discussed this briefly but not thoroughly and she could only hope that they would be convincing enough. That no one had seen them.

In the end, their haphazard plan had worked out well enough.

They'd entered the room only seconds after the guards, Glinda thumbling in first, Fiyero's rifle pressing into her back.

She'd yelped, a very real and therefore convincing one, at the sight of Keegan pointing yet another rifle at the green woman, who stood on the far side of the room, sizing up her enemies, a look of contempt on her face as she stared back at Keegan over the of his weapon.

Her eyes had shifted, along with those of the guards, to Glinda and Fiyero entering the room. Glinda had looked at Elphaba briefly, to assure herself she wasn't harmed, and then looked at Keegan, trying desperately to catch his eye.

She hadn't thought to tell Fiyero about the younger soldier. She hadn't known he was even out of the hospital. Now, as he looked back at her, his eyes moving between her and Fiyero and Elphaba, his face showing utter confusion and helplessness, she suddenly felt guilty for not checking in on him. She knew, of course, that he wasn't to be trusted, but she felt sorry for not including him in this. She felt sorry for everything she'd told him.

She'd begged him, in silence, to believe her. To help her. To be on their side. And he had given them the benefit of the doubt. At Fiyero's order, his rifle pushing into Glinda's back, the other guards had dropped their weapon. They'd all been trained to catch the Witch, but none of them was willing to be responsible for the death of Glinda the Good.

Keegan had hesitated, his eyes darting between all of them, lingering on the green woman, before coming to rest on Glinda. He'd dropped his rifle then, letting it slip from his fingers, without taking his eyes from hers.

Somehow, that was the last thing she remembered clearly. After that, everything had happened so fast, it refused to become more than a blur of images.

Fiyero had acted quickly, shoving Glinda into the guards standing there. She'd stumbled and they'd all rushed forward to help her. By the time she'd gotten to her feet, Fiyero and Elphaba had disappeared.

The Wizard had still been on the floor in front of the huge golden head. He'd given her a look of sympathy that was surprisingly real, and offered her a drink. She'd refused, distracted, and watched the soldiers pile out of the room. Keegan was the last to go, still looking at her. She knew, without a doubt, that he'd be waiting for her. She understood that his cooperation would not come without a price, but she was okay with that. She owed him some answers. She owed him much more than that. They all did.

Morrible had come prancing in then, expectantly awaiting good news. Anticipating a triumph, a cause for celebration. The long-awaited capture of the Wicked Witch. Glinda had followed in Keegan's footsteps then, unwilling to listen to the Wizard and Morrible any longer.

The Wizard had not known, apparently, that it was her who had created Elphaba's opportunity to escape. She didn't think he knew or he wouldn't have looked at her with such sympathy. But Morrible would know it was her. The game was up.

And now here she was, unable to care about the fact that she too would probably become an enemy of the Wizard now.

An enemy of the whole of Oz.

Here she was, on the edge of her bed, still in the same clothes, unable to think about anything but that bottle.

* * *

><p>He hadn't spoken to her in hours.<p>

He was angry, that much was obvious.

Of course, it had been clear from the way he'd said absolutely nothing even as he'd risked his life to ensure her safety.

He'd never been one to turn the other cheek, to straight up refuse to talk to her and she was surprised by how much it unnerved her. They'd made the flight on her broom in silence and returned to the castle, as always, through the bedroom window. She had wanted to say something to him then, find a way to apologize, difficult as she found that to be, but he'd left the room without looking at her.

She was angry about that, even if she could admit that wasn't completely fair. She'd meant to spare him harm, but mostly she'd meant to spare herself harm by keeping him out of danger's way. She was aware of that. She'd taken the choice away from him more for her own sake than for his. If he'd done the same to her, she would have been furious.

She had fought for patience and killed time by taking a shower, pacing the room and having a million imagined conversations with both him and Glinda. In the end, it took too long. Her patience, never her strong suit, ran out and she went in search of him.

She found him, after too long of wandering the castle, in his father's study; a room that wasn't used by anyone but the King. It told her very clearly that he hadn't wanted to be found. He sat in his father's leather desk chair, his head thrown back, staring at the ceiling. He looked up when she came in, but didn't say anything.

It occurred to her how rarely she was the first one to talk. It didn't come easy to her and he knew that. Most of the time, he was willing to take the first step. It was clear this time he wasn't going to.

"You're angry."

"A shrewd observation."

Sarcasm was never his style and it didn't suit him now.

"You promised me, Elphaba."

He lifted his tired eyes to hers and then looked back at his hands on the armrests.

"I knew, of course I knew, that it would come to this. I know you and I knew you'd have to go and do that. I knew that... But you promised me you'd wait, that you'd give me a moment. And I believed you. I went to bed believing that you'd wait, that you'd give me time. And I woke up to find that you never meant that."

"I couldn't risk you getting hurt."

"You made me a promise you knew you weren't going to keep."

She took a small step in his direction.

"Fiyero..."

He sat up, his eyes on hers, and put his hands on the desk with more force than she'd expected. She realized now she'd never seen him really angry. And certainly not at her.

"I meant every word I said to you, Elphaba and I would follow wherever you go, because I don't _want_ to live without you. But if this is the way it's going to be..."

He shook his head, lost for words and lacking the motivation to find them.

"Did I miss the subtle hints?"

She'd been about to fight his words, but his words, directed at the desk more than at her, confused her. The conversation taking a turn she wasn't prepared for.

"What?"

He looked back up and the anger was undisguised. His fingers pressed into the wooden desk so hard his knuckles had turned white.

"Did I miss the hints and is this your way of telling me you don't want me here?"

He wasn't expecting an answer, because he didn't pause.

"Because this is the third time you've left me and I honestly don't know how often I can do this."

She shook her head, desperate to get a word in. To reassure him that, despite all her intentions, _that_ had never been one.

"No...I...Fiyero..."

He wasn't listening. He wasn't willing to.

"How often I _want_ to do this. So if this is your way of telling me that...then just tell me now."

His eyes bore into hers, expectantly.

"Right now. Because I know that you love, but wanting me...in your life, in your world...that's a different matter. Not for me, but for some people. For you. So if you don't want me there...just tell me. Tell me, and I promise I will do my best to let you go."

She truly didn't know what to say. She'd meant, she'd only meant, to keep him out of danger. To keep him from getting hurt because of her. She'd never meant to give him the idea that she didn't want him in her life. She'd never have thought he'd come to that conclusion. Wasn't it obvious, after everything, that he was the only person she'd ever desperately needed? The only person she'd give everything for.

He didn't see that. He was searching for answers, but searching in the wrong places, drawing conclusions that were so far from the truth, it would have been laughable, if it hadn't been so terrifying.

"Because...you know...I would follow you till the end of the world. But if you're not willing to_ let _me...I knew, I _know_, that to be with you...it would take sacrifices. I'll happily make them, they're not sacrifices to me because what I get, to be with you, is more than worth it."

He looked at her again and this time, he saw her. And he wanted her to see him, too.

"You're the only thing I've ever really wanted."

The intensity of his eyes would not allow her to shy away from his words.

"But you need to give me something back. I don't need you to be the Queen of the Vinkus, I don't need you to give up who you are, but you've got to want me there, you've got to want to be with me...and if you don't...or if that's too much...then I promise you, Elphaba, I will let you go."

This was the moment then.

The choice was right in front of her. She could tell him, right now, that she couldn't do it. That she didn't want it.

That she didn't want _him_.

But now that it was before her, she knew that there wasn't a choice. If she left now, he wouldn't follow. He'd let her go. Even the thought of it made her want to throw up. Made her want to throw her arms around his neck and beg him not to leave. But she'd done this to him and he'd come to the conclusion that she had fooled herself into believing; that he was better off without her.

Now, seeing him like this, she reached a new conclusion; It wouldn't work.

If he loved her as much as she loved him, and he did, miraculously, it would never work. And if it didn't have a chance of working out, then it shouldn't be an option.

And if it wasn't an option, then she should let it go. Maybe it wasn't wise. Maybe it was brainless to think that the two of them could ever have a happy-ever-after. But she would settle for 'after'. For as long as she could. As long as he was hers.

She made her way around the desk till she stood in front of him. She hoisted her dress up and climbed into his lap, straddling him. Her hands trembled as they settled on his face.

"I love you."

His pressed his lips together and turned his head out of her hands.

"I know that."

She didn't let him move away, her fingers pressing into his skin a little harder, and forced his eyes back up to hers.

"Let me finish."

He hesitated a moment, then nodded once.

"I love you. And I'm sorry. You're right and I'm sorry."

He looked up into her dark eyes. He didn't want to fight her. He wanted to believe her. She didn't look away from him; her gaze held his and he could see she was serious.

She was scared. As guilty as that made him feel, it also brought relief. He'd been afraid, more afraid than he'd ever been, that she'd tell him to let her go.

That she'd tell him that, though she loved him, she needed her life to be hers alone. When she'd crawled into his lap, he still hadn't been sure of what was to come. It was her apology that convinced him, the tremble in her hands. Her voice breakable and pitched, the way it did when tears blocked the throat.

He could breathe again now. Now that he knew that, despite everything, they still had a chance.

Her hands still framed his face and his itched to touch her. She leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips.

She did it again and again, stopping only to look into his eyes in between kisses, until he couldn't hold himself back any longer. His arms, as if acting out of their own accord, found their way around her waist. Her body, too frail for a woman so strong, warm against his.

She deepened the kiss and let her hands run through his hair.

It wasn't soft or gentle anymore now, his arms tightening around her, pulling her body as close to his as he could, while her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.

He pulled back, panting.

"Elphaba..."

"Hmm?"

She slid his shirt over his shoulders and kissed her way down his neck.

"Elphaba..."

"You talk too much."

He laughed at that, a throaty laugh that only seemed to encourage her.

"Elphaba..."

She pulled back with a frustrated smile and looked at him, the question clear.

"Is there any particular part of his you have objections to?"

"On the contrary. But that door doesn't lock."

She looked at the door and bit her lip. It made him want to throw caution in the wind, take the risk of his father walking in, and throw her onto the desk. He could tell she was thinking the same and that made the urge even stronger.

His fingers dug into her hips, even as he edged forward in the chair to get up. A few seconds longer and they'd end up on that desk, his one hand already working the buttons on her dress.

She sighed though, in acceptance of what he meant and smiled a wicked smile.

"Then I suggest we find one that does."

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><p>They'd made it into the hallway, where he had won the fight with too many buttons as he held her up against the wall, her dress sliding down her shoulders, and onto the stairwell, where she had forced him to his knees with kisses too deep, as she pulled at his waistband. He'd actually growled as he pulled away from her and dragged her up and into one of the spare bedrooms.<p>

Now, two hours or days or decades later, they were more or less decently dressed and headed for the kitchens.

Elphaba fidgeted as she walked beside him, still not satisfied with their conversation in Liir's study, but not really willing to bring it back up either.

"Fiyero."

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and stopped walking. He stopped too then, as she'd known he would, to look at her.

"I _am_ sorry."

"I believe you."

She was unsure, and it must have showed on her face because he sighed deeply and stroked her hair, letting it run between his fingers.

"It's mostly hurt. Just hurt that you did what you did. You have no idea...I mean...Can't you imagine what I felt when Drakin woke me up to tell me you'd left?"

She could.

She _had._ She'd imagined him leaving, and her waking up to find him gone, knowing he'd left without telling her, to put himself in danger, knowing full well it might kill him. She'd imagined waking up to find him gone and never see him again. It had knocked the breath from her body.

He smiled at her, softly, with a trace of sadness in it.

"Don't worry. I can't stay angry with you for too long."

Relief came quickly, made her shoulders sag, but she knew she was let off far too easy. She stared at him in wonder. Would it ever cease to amaze her that this man,_ this_ man, loved her the way he did? Forgave her wrong-doings and chose her side always?

No, she knew. It would never stop being a miracle.

"I don't understand how you can love me the way you do."

The sadness in his smile made way for melancholy laced with true amusement.

"Neither do I. But it's unchangeable. A simple fact of life. Apples are apples. The skies are blue. Fiyero loves Elphaba."

She shook her head in amazement.

"A fact of life, huh?"

"Yeah. You know, and of me. Like, I hate avocados, I like dancing and I love you."

He put stress on the final word and touched a fingertip to her nose.

She wriggled her nose, which made him laugh and peeked up at him. They were okay now, or would be, and they resumed their walk but the air needed to be cleared a little, to put all this behind them. He always did that for her. She could do the same for him.

"You hate avocados?"

"Intensely."

"Why?"

"I don't get them."

She knew the incredulity showed as she stopped walking again.

"You don't _get _them? You don't _get _avocados?"

"Yeah. You know, what is it supposed to be? It's clear it wants to be a banana or a peach or something, but it didn't work out, and now it's just this weird gooey substance that no one can make sense of."

"They're very nutritious. Maybe that is their point."

"Yeah, I don't buy that either."

She merely stared at him again. He was utterly ridiculous, but so fascinating in his silliness.

"I think that someone, sometime ago, wanted to grow something and wanted it to be cute, like a peach, but it didn't happen and instead they got this green blob thing and they felt sorry for it, so they told everyone it was really healthy."

"Right."

He started moving again and she resumed her place beside him. He glanced to the side and smirked.

"I hope you know you can't go back on your words anymore. This is what you signed up for." His smirk turned into a grin, "For life."

She slid her hand into his without saying a word and that was answer enough.

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><p><strong>Please do review :)<strong>

**And please keep reading. We're almost there!**


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31.**

**A/N Thank you for the wonderful response :)**

**Time to start wrapping things up, I'm afraid. One more after this one...**

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><p>The moment they walked through the kitchen doors, Drakin came up to them. Fiyero had to ask himself if they would ever be allowed the chance to just <em>be<em>, even for a little while.

"Your presence is requested in the library. You have a visitor."

The Prince frowned.

"Me?"

Drakin gave them a meaningful look.

"Both of you."

They came into the library to find Glinda on the sofa. She was still wearing the dress she'd had on the night before. Only hours before had they made their escape. Why was she here?

"I have to talk to you."

She didn't specify who she was talking to but her eyes never left Elphaba, so Fiyero hung back.

"Just me?"

Elphaba had come to the same conclusion.

"Well. It concerns you, but it is up to you if Fiyero stays or not. It doesn't matter to me."

Drakin left the room discretely and Fiyero followed him, unsure of what to do. He wanted to stay, of course, but if what Glinda had to say didn't concern him, he didn't want to force his presence on either of the women.

Elphaba called him back when he'd nearly reached the door.

"Fiyero?"

She didn't say anything else but he understood perfectly well what she was doing; She was making good on her promise. She was trying to keep her word.

He smiled and closed the door.

Elphaba never liked to waste time and Glinda had grown out of her habit of lingering on irrelevant details, when it came to business.

"Elphie. Do you still have that bottle that belonged to your mother?"

"My...Yes. Why?"

"Can I see it?"

"Why?"

"Please just trust me. Can you get it?"

Elphaba didn't say anything but left the room.

The two that remained shared a silence that was filled with what wasn't being said, until the prince couldn't take it any more. Words that he long should have shared with his former love bubbling to the surface.

"Glinda. For the record; I am sorry."

"I know."

"Do you? Because...I do love you. I just...I'm...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Her sigh was impatient, as if she didn't want to have this conversation, but had known it was coming and now wanted to get it out of the way.

"Fiyero. I'm not going to tell you it's okay, because it's not. But...I understand. And I understand why you did what you did. That's going to have to be enough."

It was. It was more than he deserved, but he didn't know how to say that. Luckily, he didn't have to because at that moment the door opened again and Elphaba strode back into the room, handing Glinda the bottle she'd asked for.

The blonde stared at it for a moment, a tortured expression on her face.

"Tonight, after you two left...the Wizard offered me a drink."

She looked at them both. Fiyero knew that Elphaba's look mirrored his. Neither of them able to guess where this was going. Fiyero, as often in tense situations, opted for humor.

"That's not a great start, Glin."

She merely threw him a look he'd seen a million times before, but most of those times, it had been on Elphaba's face. It startled him a little.

"He offered me a drink from a bottle like this."

Her eyes stayed on Elphaba's.

"_Exactly_ like this."

The green woman shook her head, clearly confused, but also afraid of what was coming.

"Glinda. What are you talking about?"

"I mean that the Wizard has a bottle exactly like this."

"But...this was my mother's..."

"I know, but Elphie...where did your mother get it?"

Realization dawned in the dark eyes.

"What are you saying, exactly?"

"I don't know."

Another impatient sigh. She seemed, for all the world, like a mother dealing with petulant children. She looked tired. More tired than he'd ever seen her. He was ashamed to realize he hadn't spent nearly enough time to ask himself what all this was to doing to her. He'd been too busy with himself and Elphaba to concern himself with Glinda. The fact made him flush with shame and embarrassment but Glinda had already moved on, oblivious to what was in his mind.

"I don't _know_, Elphie. I truly don't so stop looking at me like that. I am asking...don't _you_ want to know?"

Fiyero couldn't keep up with them. Maybe he really was slow on the uptake. Or maybe they were just being women; talking in only half-sentences, expecting the other to fill in the gasps and understand.

"What does she want to know?"

"Why the Wizard has a bottle just like this." She turned back to Elphaba. "What if your mother got it from the Wizard?"

"No."

"Elphie."

"No."

"Saying 'no' won't change anything, you know. I've tried that. It's called denial."

"Well, I'm glad to see you've grown as a person, Glinda. But that won't make me change my mind."

Fiyero could already see where this was going. His time spent around women had taught him to recognize the sure signs of the beginning of a cat fight.

"Alright. Last time you did this, no one came out on the better side."

They both glared at him, but Glinda gave in.

"He's right, Elphie."

She put the bottle on the table.

"You don't have to do anything about it. I just thought you'd want to know. You should know. Maybe he has the answers."

Fiyero rubbed his neck as his eyes flitted from a tired face to a frustrated one. He had a feeling there was a lot more being said than there was actually being said. Out loud and in words. Words that _he_ would be able to understand too. Women. How were men supposed to keep up?

"The answers to what?"

Both women ignored him. They just stood there and looked at each other. An entire conversation taking place without a word being said, until Elphaba sighed.

"Fine. Let's go get this over with."

She turned and looked at Fiyero.

"Are you coming?"

He wanted to protest that going back to the palace only hours after their near-escape was suicide. He wanted to remind her of her promise. But it dawned on him that she was keeping her promise, by asking him.

"Of course."

* * *

><p>They traveled by bubble, though Elphaba refused to leave her broom behind. They didn't object. She needed an escape route. A safety net. The other two understood and respected that.<p>

The bubble wasn't as fast as the broom, but it was steady and stable, not bothered by rough winds or thunder storms and on a clear day like this one, it glided through the air with ease. It wasn't far either, from the Vinkus to the Emerald City, even if it took forever with a coach, so the trip was short and made in nervous silence.

Glinda moved with purpose, marching straight through the halls, until she got to a door, where, surprisingly, Keegan stood watch. Elphaba nor Fiyero commented on that, and though their eyes met the soldier's as they followed Glinda to the door, no words were spoken. Fiyero stopped as Glinda moved to open the door without knocking.

"I'll wait here. Just to be sure."

As Elphaba opened her mouth to protest, he smiled at her.

"I trust you to not run off without me.."

"But what if..."

She threw a hesitant look at Keegan, who turned towards them.

"I've kept from having you arrested twice now. I've earned more credit than you're giving me."

Again, his eyes slid to Glinda. She nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"Thank you. I promise you will get your answers. As soon as we get ours."

He didn't say anything, didn't even nod in acknowledgment, but he stepped back and resumed his position.

"I'll stay here, anyway. Let me know when it's safe to come in."

It wasn't that he didn't trust Keegan, it was simply that he didn't trust anyone. He needed to be sure, one hundred percent sure, that they'd get out of here. Elphaba had her broom, she could always fly. And this way, he'd be able to keep an eye on Keegan. If needed, he'd be in the room in a matter of seconds.

As he watched the door swing shut, he sighed and raised his eyes skywards. Like Elphaba, he didn't believe in a deity but he decided that, if one did happen to be out or up there, now would be a great time for them to pay some attention.

* * *

><p>Elphaba walked behind Glinda with lead in her shoes. She couldn't remember any other time in her life where she had hid behind another person. Not even when there had been people to hide behind. This time, however, she couldn't bring herself to take the initiative. She didn't want to be here, not for this purpose, and the reluctance weighed her down, put lead in dragging footsteps.<p>

The Wizard was nowhere in sight, as far as she could tell, but no sooner had she opened her mouth to voice her doubt to Glinda, or the man came up from behind that idiotic golden head. He was clearly not expecting anyone, least of all them, because the moment he saw them, his eyes shot to the door, looking for a way out. Glinda held her hands up in the air.

"Please, your Ozness, we didn't come to attack you or mean you harm."

The green woman wanted to scoff at that, but didn't. Glinda obviously knew what to do here, and how to go about it, because the Wizard didn't move an inch. To be safe instead of sorry, the blonde moved slowly towards the golden head, her hands still up, as she advanced on the Wizard, driving him to take a few steps backwards.

Elphaba watched in amazement. Glinda had really thought this through, that much was clear. By making him retreat, she was driving him away from his throne, from his megaphone, so he couldn't call for help without moving past them. Still, she stayed behind. She would stay as far away from him as possible, until they had the upper hand. Glinda was here too, now, and Fiyero was just outside. She wouldn't risk them getting hurt. Not again. They were risking their lives too and though she'd always been prepared to lose her own life in this battle, she wasn't prepared to lose theirs.

Glinda stopped moving and so did the Wizard.

"We've come to ask you something."

"You won't fault me for not trusting you on your word, miss Glinda. Last time I saw you, your life was threatened by your former love-interest, in order to free the woman currently by your side."

This time she did scoff and the words escaped before she could stop them.

"We won't fault you for _that_."

"Elphie."

Glinda's voice held a warning tone and Elphaba swallowed the biting response.

The blonde turned back towards the Wizard.

"No. I won't fault you for that. Just as I hope you won't fault us for asking this question."

The Wizard cocked his head in ill-disguised curiosity.

"What question?"

"Elphie?"

At Glinda's meaningful look, Elphaba, without saying anything, reached inside her pocket and put the bottle on the table. Both women looked at the bottle, then at the Wizard, who was staring at it with wonder in his eyes.

"Where did you get that?"

"It was my mother's. The real question is: where did_ she_ get it?"

"Your mother's?"

He reached into his pocket and retrieved a bottle exactly like the one already on the table and put it next to its twin.

"Yes, my mother's."

"But where could she possibly..."

His voice trailed off as the meaning of her words set in. His eyes sought her face but they were unfocused.

"Wait. Your mother. What is your mother's name?"

She loathed him. Hated every second of being in this room, _talking_.

"Was. She's dead. Didn't Morrible fill you in on that?"

Glinda touched her arm and frowned at her.

"Elphie."

She wanted to shrug off the soft hand but refrained.

"Fine."

For Glinda. She could do this for Glinda. She had to. She owed her that at least, even if she couldn't understand why this was important to Glinda. Even if she did understand that Glinda, by some ill-guided notion, was doing this for her.

"Melena. Melena Thropp."

He took a few steps back, his hand reaching out behind him, looking for support but coming up empty.

"Melena..." His eyes bore into hers, narrowed in concentration. Then, they widened as he staggered back.

"My God."

Both women watched as he sank to his knees.

Glinda stepped forward but stopped in her tracks as she remembered who she was talking to. She wasn't on his side. Yet she couldn't say nothing.

"Mr...Sir..."

She was obviously unsure of how to address him.

"Are you alright?"

Elphaba snorted at that, but Glinda didn't pay her any attention.

The Wizard, shaking his head as he lifted his face from his hands, looked back up from his spot on the floor.

"How old are you?"

Elphaba just looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

"How old am I?"

She gave him a look filled with impatience.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

He didn't seem to hear the hateful tone. He just stared at her and asked again, his voice weaker than the first time he'd asked.

"Just...can you tell me? When were you born?"

She stared at him. She didn't want to answer, though why she couldn't say.

"I'm twenty-four."

He made a whimpering sound and fell back to the floor, his eyes still on her, wide as saucers.

She didn't want to ask, she didn't want to initiate any conversation with him. He didn't deserve questions, or time to answer. He didn't reserve respite.

"_Why?_"

"I...Melena..."

"How do you know my mother?"

She didn't want to know the answer.

"There...there was...your father...I mean...her husband...he was away. I was passing through. I was there for a few days at the most."

"What are you saying exactly?"

She knew the answer.

"You look like her."

It was the wrong thing to say. She retreated to the door. For some reason, that made him panic. He got to his feet and moved towards the door, towards her, his arm outstretched.

"Elphaba, wait."

To both their surprise, she halted and, very slowly and deliberately, turned around.

"For what?"

"I..."

He went back to the table and took both bottles, one in each hand. His eyes went back and forth between them.

"I don't...I never meant..."

But it was too late, the swishing of her dress the only sound as she disappeared through the door. The Wizard turned back to Glinda, a helpless look on his face.

The blonde witch moved to his side, and reached out to steady him but then remembered who it was she was about to help and she let her hands drop to her side, a distrustful expression on her face.

"You had an affair with her mother?"

"I...I didn't...I was only there for a few days. Her husband was out of town. She seemed so happy to be ….I don't know...free, I guess."

His eyes took on a distant look.

"She was so beautiful."

His memories weren't strong enough to hold him. Or maybe the present was too strong to be ignored.

"She really does look like her. I didn't see it before."

Glinda moved forward again, but not to help this time. Her eyes bore into his, fiery, angry and determined.

"I hope you realize you've been actively trying to kill your own daughter these past few years."

It was something he'd probably realized but at her words he fell back on the floor. She took another step towards him, until she stood towering over him. He seemed nothing but an old man now. Old and frail. If she hadn't known better, she would have felt sorry for him.

"I want you to leave Oz."

He didn't look at her anymore, his hands still clutching the bottles, and nodded. She knew, with absolute certainty, that he would. But that didn't mean the end of their troubles. There was one more problem to be dealt with. And she needed to deal with it now.

She walked over to the door and called to the soldier right outside the door.

"Mr. Keegan. Please come in. There is some work to do."

* * *

><p><strong>Review please, if you have a minute...I would appreciate it very much. <strong>


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32 – Epilogue**

**A/N Well, this is it, folks. The final chapter. 32. That's quite long, isn't it? Thank you so, so, so much to those who have read and reviewed and kept with me for this ride. As it turns out, happy is what happens when people like your story and take the time to tell you :)**

**I hope you will do so for this chapter, even if there won't be another one.**

* * *

><p>It took Glinda and Keegan some time to get the affairs in order. The Wizard had kept word and had left the room, the palace and, it seemed, the country. Either way, wherever he'd gone, Glinda felt confident he would never return. Even if he did, there would be nothing left for him.<p>

Morrible hadn't waited long to show up but whatever she had expected to find, she hadn't found it. Instead, she had found the majority of the Gale Force waiting for her. She was now, or so Glinda had been informed, locked in an appropriately small cell, where she was guarded round the clock, hands, feet and tongue bound. It would have to do till Glinda thought of a more suitable solution. She would make sure the woman would never be free, but murder was not something she was comfortable with, even it was someone as despicable as the former Head Shiztress.

Now, she sat, once again, in the library at the Vinkun castle, where she filled in Elphaba and Fiyero on the happenings in the palace. Elphaba, who had fled the palace, Fiyero in tow, still wasn't ready to accept or talk about the truth regarding her parentage.

That was her right, though, and it would take time. In the end, she'd be able to cope. Glinda was sure of that. For now, the green witch chose to focus her attention on the one person she may have hated even more than she did the Wizard.

"What about Morrible?"

Glinda took up the cup of coffee before her.

"Well, by the time she walked into the room, the Gale Force was already waiting for her. The Wizard had officially handed over the reigns to me, then. I made him do that in front of them, so Morrible wouldn't have a chance to convince anyone otherwise. The moment she walked in, I had her arrested so she should be nice and comfortable in Southstairs."

"You better make sure it's magic-proof."

"Oh, I'm working on that. I was actually hoping you could help me with that. Until then, Keegan has got men guarding her round the clock and she can't move. Or talk. I personally made sure of that last one. I had my own debt to settle with the old hag."

Fiyero intervened then, a slight smile Glinda couldn't quite decipher on his handsome features.

"Keegan is Captain now?"

"Well, no." She sputtered a little, a slight blush on her cheeks, "but I wasn't sure who I could trust, and well...he let you go, so I figured..."

Elphaba nodded.

"That actually makes sense."

The blonde pulled a face at her best friend.

"I do have a brain, Elphie. You don't have to sound so surprised."

She set her cup down, and Drakin, who, at Elphaba's request, had also been summoned to the library, immediately filled it. She smiled a thank-you and looked back at Elphaba.

"Anyway. He already knew about it. I'd gone to see him before I came to talk to you. I needed to make sure there wouldn't be any guards near the door when we arrived. Or, no guards we couldn't trust to let us through."

"I wondered about that."

"He could have done you both a world of hurt, Elphie. All of this could never have happened if he had told everyone the truth. You're both alive because of him."

Fiyero felt the guilt that he felt every time he thought about the young soldier. Never would he have expected that the boy he'd shot would end up aiding them in their escape. He owed not just his life, but Elphaba's life to him now. He'd find a way to thank him. Maybe he'd buy him an island. Or maybe he would like a piece of the Vinkus. He could have it all.

"So now what?"

Glinda stood up, her dress rustling and took a few steps towards the window.

"That's what I came here to discuss."

She turned back to look at Elphaba.

"Oz needs a new ruler now. I think it should be you."

Elphaba, who had her own untouched coffee in her hand, spilled it over the brim of her cup. She muttered a curse before throwing Glinda a disbelieving look.

"That tiara must have damaged your brain."

"Funny, Elphie. I'm serious."

"I don't want to believe that, seeing as how it's the stupidest thing I've heard in a long time. And I live with Fiyero. He has theories about avocados that would baffle many great thinkers."

Fiyero let out an undignified 'hey!' but otherwise ignored her jab. He was distracted by the fuzzy feeling in his stomach that her words caused.

_I live with Fiyero..._..it made them sound so...together. And she'd said it in such a casual manner, as if it was just a fact to her too now.

Glinda, on the other hand, was neither falling for the diversion nor experiencing warm fuzzy feelings of any kind.

"Elphaba Thropp. I am being serious. I would like you to be as well."

Elphaba shook her head and got up from her seat on the sofa. She made her way over to where her former room mate stood and spoke calmly.

"Glinda. I know you are and that you mean well. I know you want to do what's best for everyone. But this isn't it."

"Elphie.."

"No. Glinda. Listen to me; for all the events of the past hours, and for all the..." she hesitated there, but continued after a moment's pause, "truths to come out, I am still, to the citizens of Oz, who I have been to them these past years. Even the Wizard disappearing and Morrible being arrested won't change that. Not at the drop of a hat."

"But..."

Fiyero stepped in then. He saw the truth in Elphaba's words, but he also felt the need to make her see the truth in Glinda's belief.

"Maybe it could. If the Gale Force was there for the Wizard's departure. He handed over the reigns to Glinda. She has the power to install you..."

"Fiyero. Even if she does...they won't want me there. I wish I could, I really do. There are so many things I wish I could do with that power, but I can't. It's not for me. Not anymore."

He tried again. He didn't want her walking away from what she'd wanted her whole life.

"You can still do that! If anyone can..."

Unfortunately, her lack of patience, a familiar enemy to them all, made her unable to listen to either of them.

"Well, that has long since proved untrue, hasn't it? I can't make anyone see what I mean. I just don't have what it takes. Who would follow me, if they had a choice?"

"I would."

He had the answer to that, at least. He took a step forward, so that his body nearly touched hers, and raised his hand to brush the hair out of her face. His hand was rough and calloused now. Not like it had been, once.

"I would follow you, Elphie."

He used her nickname to get her back, to remind her of who she was. Who she _still_ was, deep inside. He'd never really liked the name Glinda had given her. It didn't suit her. Yet now, somehow, it did. It was a connection between them, a part of their history, even if he'd only ever used the name in jest back then. He suspected she knew that, and that was why she never commented on the use of it anymore.

She looked back into his eyes and smiled, but shook her head.

"Thank you, Fiyero. For that. But...it's not for me anymore."

She tore her eyes away from his and turned back to Glinda.

"It's for you, now."

Glinda's eyes widened almost comically and she took a few steps away from Elphaba.

"Elphie. No. What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that you're right in one respect; Oz needs a new leader."

"Elphie. I can't. You know I can't."

"You can."

"Elphie. No. don't be ridiculous. That's _your_ job. Your dream."

Elphaba glanced at Fiyero from the corner of her eye and he smiled at her. She would give up everything for him. Even as the fight she'd fought was ending, with Glinda ready to rule Oz, she knew that, after this, she'd have given it up, for him. For him she would.

"Not anymore."

She saw Fiyero smile at the meaning behind her words and she couldn't help but smile back.

"It's not my only dream anymore."

She looked into Glinda's eyes, conveying her earnestness in this.

"I want to be there, Glin, I do. But I can't go from Wicked Witch to replacing the Wizard. It won't work. But _you_ can."

One more look at the man beside her cemented the words as truth before she spoke them.

"Besides...I won't have time to rule Oz...now that you can clear my name, I have to be Queen of the Vinkus."

Fiyero's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. He hadn't been expecting that.

"Elphaba."

He stepped forward again and looked at her beseechingly.

"You don't have to do that. I don't have to be King. Now that your name can be cleared, we can do whatever we want. _You_ can do whatever you want. You don't have to become Queen."

She turned away from Glinda to face him.

"I know. But what do _you _want?"

He stared at her. Such a simple question, but from her...it was an acknowledgment of a future together, proof of how much she loved him, a testimony of how much she'd changed...she'd stay in the Vinkus and be Queen if he chose that path. It healed every scratch on his heart she'd ever made.

"I think you need to be here. In the palace, the Emerald City, wherever. You can finally make all these changes you wanted. You two together. And me...well...I _am_ the heir to the throne. I suppose that would make you Queen of the Vinkus _and_ Glinda's Grand Vizier."

Glinda smiled. So did Elphaba.

"That's utterly ridiculous."

"But not impossible."

She grimaced but it turned into a grin.

"No. I suppose not."

"Besides, my father is nowhere near ready to retire. It'll be a while before that comes into play. Until that time, you two can focus on making Oz a better place."

Both women looked at him, then at each other. He watched as Glinda reached for Elphaba's hand, squeezed it and gave her an imploring look.

Elphaba squeezed back as she rolled her eyes and smiled.

"I suppose we could at least try."

They all turned to look at Drakin who had cleared his throat politely.

"Champagne to be served in the gardens, Master Fiyero?"

"I think so, Drakin. Please fetch my parents as well. I have a feeling they'd appreciate being filled in."

"Indeed, I think they would."

He didn't say anything else but the broad smile on his face told Fiyero that at least one citizen of Oz approved of the changes.

He looked back at where the two most important women of his life still stood, hand in hand.

So completely different from each other, but both beautiful, strong and capable of miracles.

If any one could change Oz for the better, it was them.

* * *

><p>Hours later, after too much champagne and talk of frivolous things and grand plans, they had all retired to bed.<p>

His parents had been more than pleased with the idea that their son would no longer be a fugitive (or considered dead for that matter) and that their future daughter-in-law would no longer be a Wicked Witch. Elphaba had scoffed at that notion and been quick to point out that she still was both a witch and wicked as well, but they'd all shushed her words and Glinda had simply topped up her champagne and started a speech.

To Elphaba's utter shock, Raina had hugged her when Glinda had finished her tale. Liir had merely looked at her, imploringly, and shaken her hand. They understood each other.

Glinda had accepted the invitation to stay in one of the guest rooms of the palace. Tomorrow, she would return to the Emerald City and relay to the Ozians the departure of the Wizard and Madame Morrible. She would ask them to accept her, Glinda the Good, as their new leader.

No one, not even Glinda, really doubted that they would. They had decided not to include Elphaba in Glinda's announcement just yet. First, they'd work quietly, Glinda in the public eye, while Elphaba remained backstage for the first while. After that, very slowly, they would start to release more and more of the truth behind the story of the Wicked Witch of the West.

Then, the work would truly begin. Animal bans were to be lifted. Scholar ships to be re-installed. Laws installed during the Wizards reign to be dropped and laws dropped by the Wizard to be re-installed. There were so many things to do. And they would start tomorrow.

For now, however, they had a few hours to themselves. As they got ready for bed, Fiyero watched as Elphaba dropped her dress unceremoniously to the floor, too tired to care. Fiyero looked on in awe. With Glinda, he'd been used to her disappearing into the bathroom for a good half hour before she'd finally come to bed. He was looking forward to a life with Elphaba, who dropped dresses on the floor and didn't care for make-up. She was too beautiful for that anyway. He couldn't fight the huge smile that appeared on his face as he watched her.

"So where will we live? Because I have to be honest; I'm not looking forward to a daily commute between the Vinkus and the Emerald City on that broom of yours."

She smirked as she walked over, dressed only in her slip.

"Well, I can always ask Glinda to make you a bubble."

He pulled a face as he reached for her.

"Funny."

"Oh, I know."

She sighed and sank into his embrace.

"I don't want to live in the Palace either though. Can't we just live in that cabin we stayed in that first night?"

He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her, her hair tickling his chin.

"Oh, I don't know. It was really small and I mean, that's fine right now but do you really want the kids sleeping in the same room?"

She turned in his arms to face him.

"_Kids_?"

"Yes. Kids. We're gonna have lots of kids. Just so you know."

"And how would you know that?"

"I plan to practice a lot at making them, for one."

"Fiyero!"

He laughed out loud then.

"What? Do you know how awesome our kids would be? With your brains and looks and my...well...my...erm...charm.." He grinned at her and his eyes sparkled.

She rolled her eyes, as she was required to do, but she felt the warmth spread through her body, as it always did when he said things like that.

"I want a boy like me and a girl like you."

"_Exactly_ like me?"

He wasted no time in answering. He pulled her even closer, wrapped his arms tighter around her waist and kissed her forehead.

"_Exactly_ like you."

She had no biting retort for that because the depth of his love still stunned her.

"Maybe a little less smart."

His only answer was a pillow in his face.

* * *

><p><strong>That's it, guys! All of it. Pfew. <strong>

**Thanks for reading. Thanks even more for reviewing! **

**Fiyero and Elphaba stole my heart. I hope I did them justice. **

**Till next time?**

**Holly**


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